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A HAPPY'FIND 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
OF 

MADAME &AGNEBIN. 


BY 

MISS K V. LEE. 

I 


NEW YOKK 
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 




13 AsTOR Place 



Copyright, 1889, 

BY 

T. Y. Crowell & Co. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Roland finds the Baby 5 

II. “Have Pity” 12 

III. “ Aunt Martha, THE Huguenot” 16 

IV. Two Visitors 25 

V. Aim EE 33 

VI. Reminiscences 38 

VII. A Painful Discussion 46 

VIII. Aunt Martha’s Sickness 54 

IX. New Arrangements 64 

X. The Christmas Holidays 70 

XI. Death of Aunt Martha 82 

XII. Sorrowing 95 

XIII. An Eventful Journey 105 

XIV. Aim^e’s New Home 115 

XV. Walking and Talking 123 

XVI. A Mutual Recognition 139 

XVII. The Doctor and the Ogre 154 

XVIII. Ministering 175 

XIX. A Pair of Spectacles 184 

XX. A Hasty Departure 199 

XXI. Some Letters 214 

XXII. Death of St. Rock 230 

XXIII. The Return to the Abbey 250 

*3 


s 


A HAPPY FIND. 


CHAPTER 1. 

ROLAND FINDS THE BABY. 

What did you say ? A child ? Are you in earnest ? ’’ 
Am I in earnest ? 

Did any one ever hear anything like it ! ” 

Have you seen it ? ” 

“No, but if you don’t believe it, go and ask Aunt 
Ursula; she knew it before I did, since it was Eoland 
who found it.” 

Without further discussion, the two speakers hurried 
off, and soon joined a group of women, all speaking at 
once, evidently moved by some extraordinary agitation. 

At the approach of the new comers, the noise in- 
creased. “ Have you met him ? ” — “ Did he show it to 
you ? ” — “ Is it not dreadful ? ” cried several voices. 

“ Who ? What ? ” answered the latest comer, breath- 
lessly. 

“ Eoland ; don’t you know that he has just found a 
little baby ? ” 

“I have just heard so, but I could not believe it,” and 
the woman looked around, incredulously. 

5 


6 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Where have tliey taken it ? asked she, at last. 

Do you want to adopt it ? ’’ roughly answered a tall 
woman, dry and thin, Avrinkled by trouble, rather than 
by age. 

Why — I would not say no, if I did not have more 
than my share already.’’ 

Well, it is just for that reason that I have told that 
little scamp to go and put his foundling where he found 
it.” 

A disapproving murmur was heard. Dame Ursula 
straightened herself. 

“Yes, you may preach, all of you. Am I not already 
keeping Koland out of charity ? Which of you would 
do as much ? ” 

“ I, I,” cried several voices. 

The paysanne put her arms akimbo and laughed, 
though rather awkwardly, as if she were unaccustomed 
to it. 

“ You shall not have him, all the same. I have brought 
him up. I will keep him. When I begin a good work, I 
like to finish it.” , ; : 

“But,” said a cracked, little voice, “you ought to be 
just, Ursula ; if his father does not send you money you 
pay yourself in another fashion, which comes to the same 
thing, in the end.” 

“ What do you mean. Aunt Bose ? ” 

“ Oh ! nothing but what everybody knows,” responded 
the old woman, with a mischievous smile. 


BOLANB FINDS THE BABY. 


7 


But all this is an old story/’ cried one of the new 
comers, ‘^that does not tell us what Koland has done 
with the baby. You ought to have kept it a little while, 
Ursula; that would not have forced you to keep it, 
always.” 

To show it to you — eh ? ” retorted the ;paysanne, 
^^as if you did not see a baby every year, regularly. 
AVell, I can tell you that this one is like all the rest, 
though I did not waste my time in 'looking at it.” 

“But, all the same, one must admit that it is very 
extraordinary ! ” 

Everybody looked at the one who had made such an 
astonishing remark. 

Dame Ursula shrugged her shoulders. 

“ In these days, one is never astonished ; besides, rich 
people are always extraordinary.” 

“ Rich people ! What do you mean by that ? ” 

“ Yes, rich people. When did you ever know the poor 
desert their children ? ” 

“ Oh ! as for that, you are right, but what makes you 
think that this one ” — 

“ What makes me think so ? I have eyes, and 
good ones, thank God. It did not take me long to notice 
the shawl, white as snow, and the finest merino, — the 
shawl in which the little creature was wrapped. You 
may believe me, whoever deserted that child is better off 
than we are ; but, as for knowing where it comes from, 
that is another thing. Ah ! here is Roland.” 


8 


A HAPPY FIXD. 


All the women turned, and called together, — 

Come here, little boy ; quick, hurry, what have you 
done with the baby ? ” 

The small boy, thus summoned, advanced as calmly as 
if he had not seen their impatience. As he approached 
them, he raised his curly head, and looked at them with 
clear blue eyes. 

Is it true that you have found a baby ? What have 
you done with it ? AVhere have you put it ? ’’ 

Tor all answer, the child burst out with a merry laugh. 
“Answer,’’ cried Aunt Ursula, craning her wrinkled 
neck. 

Koland recovered his gravity. 

“Aunt Martha is going to keep it; we are going to 
name it to-morrow, and I shall be the godfather.” 

The women all laughed. The child crimsoned, and 
tried to run off, but Aunt Ursula held his arm. 

“ Why did you carry it to that Huguenot ? Don’t you 
know I forbid you to go there ? ” 

“ I did not mean to give it to her. I wanted to give it 
to the young lady at the cottage.” 

“ And why didn’t you ? ” 

“ The old servant was waiting for me.” 

“ Are you crazy ? The old servant was waiting for 
you ! What do you mean ? ” 

The child hesitated. 

“ She saw ” : — 

“ Who saw ? ” 


BOLAND FINDS THE BABY. 


9 


‘‘ The old servant at the cottage saw me when I found 
the baby behind the hedge, near the path, but 1 did not 
show it to her ; I ran away, because I wanted to keep 
it for ourselves ; then, she waited for me.’’ 

^^Ah, she waited for you! She knew, then, that I 
would none of it. . . And why didn’t she take you to her 
mistress ? The young lady would have kept it, certainly.” 

She could not. She died this morning.” 

Dead 1 The lady at the cottage is dead ? ” 

There was a moment of silence. 

^‘One would think that house was bewitched,” said 
Aunt Ursula, at last. 

All the women nodded. 

^^Eoland’s mother died there six months after her 
arrival, and the young lady, — let me see, how long is 
it since she came ? Why, would you believe it, just six 
months, almost to a day ? ” 

Don’t talk nonsense, Ursula,” interrupted a scolding 
voice. ‘^Whether a house is bewitched or not one is 
liable to die. Eoland’s mother was so sick when she 
came, that it was a miracle she lived so long j as for the 
other, it is my opinion that it is grief that carried her 
off. It seems that she could not get over her husband’s 
death.” 

Who told you such stuff ? ” 

“The old servant. But if she had not told me, I 
should have guessed that she was dying of grief, just 
from seeing her pale face, and great sad eyes.” 


10 


A HAPPY FIND. 


“ What is that to us ? ” interrupted one of the old 
women, with a sigh. saw her at the window, not 
more than two or three days ago. I was carrying my 
Louise’s youngest, and as I looked up in passing, she 
smiled at the little one ; I cannot tell you how, but that 
smile went to my very heart.” 

Now, hush ! all of you,” interrupted a voice, let 
Eoland tell us how he had the idea of carrying his baby 
to the Huguenot.” 

It was not my idea,” answered the child, ^Hhe old 
servant advised me to go there.” 

Well, go on, how did she meet you ? Was she much 
surprised ? ” 

I did not ask her.” 

^^But what did she do ? tell us.” 

^^When I told her that I had found it behind the 
hedge, near the road, and that I did not know what to 
do with it, since Aunt Ursula would not keep it, and the 
young lady was dead, she took it in her arms, and said 
something in a whisper, I don’t know what; then she 
sent me to the shop, for she thought it would be hungry 
when it woke.” 

Think of the Huguenot with a baby ! ” cried one of 
the women, her voice instantly drowned in the laughter 
of the rest. 

Don’t be afraid, she will soon be tired of that busi- 
ness,” added Aunt Ursula. ^^In a fortnight, the little 
one will be sent to the asylum.” 


EOLANB FINDS THE BABY. 


11 


Koland’s blue eyes shone with indignation, but he did 
not speak, but moved away quickly, leaving the women 
to their suppositions. 

Such a marvellous event, never before known at Sil- 
vereal, kept them long enough from their duties, and 
that fact was only realized with the darkness of the 
night. 

The sun had long disappeared, the brilliant purple 
glow vanished slowly. The sea moaned in the little bay, 
and the white waves beat against the rocks. A cold, 
gray twilight had come, little by little, and then, only, 
did the remembrance of their duties return to them; 
and, frightened, they hurried to their fireless homes, 
certain of finding discontented husbands and crying 
children. But their neglect was not so unnatural, after 
all, for the finding of a baby is an event which does not 
happen every day. 


CHAPTEE II. 


^^HAVE PITY.’’ 

While the good women dispersed, in more or less ap- 
prehension, Aunt Martha, the Huguenot, still upset by 
the extraordinary event which had put all the village in 
a turmoil, drew from the depths of her linen press a pile 
of clothes as white as snow, examined them one after 
the other, then, having carefully chosen the finest and 
softest, she went to work most vigorously. 

All at once, a little cry, then several louder ones was 
heard. Aunt Martha rose, her pale face flushed slightly, 
her brown eyes were lit up with a softened light, and her 
mouth, usually a little proud, had a gentle expression, 
which would have surprised more than one inhabitant of 
the village. She crossed the room quickly, pushed open 
the door of a darkened chamber, and went towards a 
great bed, from which she lifted a tiny white bundle. 

Before she seated herself, she paced the room several 
times, only stopping when the infant’s piercing cries 
were a little quieted. Then she undid the shawl which 
enveloped it, and stopped, motionless with surprise. A 
square piece of paper, with the simple words ^^Have 
pity,” written in an uncertain hand, Avas attached to the 
little chemise, and rested on the baby’s breast. With a 
12 


'^HAVE pity:^ 


13 


trembling hand, Aunt Martha detached it, and looked 
at it for a long time, until two tears rolled down her 
cheeks. 

What a profound revelation of sorrow, anguish, and 
love in those simple words ! The Huguenot felt it. 
She examined the tiny clothes, one by one, turned and 
re-turned them, but nothing told her the parents’ name, 
nor the cause of their desertion. 

Aunt Martha resumed her task, but it was no easy 
matter for one so inexperienced. The little creature 
had begun to cry again, louder than ever, turning from 
one side to another her tiny face, purple with anger, and 
struggling to put her fist in her mouth. 

Her toilette finished. Aunt Martha tried, not without 
some trepidation, to induce her to take some milk, which 
to her great relief, the little one drank eagerly ; then, 
once satisfied, she remained quiet, her blue eyes fixed 
upon the half sad, half joyful ones which were watching 
her. At last, fatigue proved too much, and she slept. 

Aunt Martha rose to deposit her light burden, then 
went to the kitchen and lit the fire. When she had 
finished her repast, and put all in order, she took down 
from its place a large Bible, turned the pages for an 
instant, then, clasping her hands, the Huguenot bent her 
forehead upon the Holy Book. The last hours of that 
day had witnessed an event as extraordinary as unex- 
pected, and she felt the need of an interview with her 
heavenly friend. 


14 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Aunt Martha remained long in prayer; when she 
raised her head, her beautiful eyes sparkled, her heart 
beat with gratitude for this strange and marvellous gift 
which Go^xhad sent her. 

Oh ! how she would love this little creature ; all the 
tenderness her heart had once contained, would blossom 
again for her. How happy she would make her ! She 
would never be taken from her ; the entrea^ lying on 
her bosom was a pledge. And, happy in that thought, 
she went to work. The hours passed, and still she 
sewed. The linen, the little chemises grew as if by en- 
chantment under her quick fingers. She did not perceive 
the fiight of time, she never thought of looking at the 
great clock, whose hands made their accustomed round, 
all astonished at this illumination so late in the night. 

Two or three times she slipped noiselessly into the ad- 
joining room, to listen for some seconds to the gentle 
breathing of the little sleeper, then came back to her 
work, her heart filled with an emotion hitherto un- 
known. And while she sewed, tirelessly, dreaming of 
the little being that chance had placed in her arms, the 
night rolled away, tranquil and silent. 

Everything seemed sleeping in the bay, even the great 
sea, whose waves broke noiselessly on the beach, all ex- 
cept Aunt Martha, whose heart sang a hymn of hope, 
never thinking that not far from her, on the edge of the 
forest, in the pretty cottage that Aunt Ursula had pro- 
nounced ‘‘ bewitched,’^ a poor creature, an old servant. 


HAVE pity:^ 


15 


was watching, too. Motionless, near the bedside, where 
lay the remains of the last one she had loved, she seemed 
lost in contemplation of the young face, from which all 
trace of pain or grief had forever passed. 

From time to time her wrinkled hand caressed the 
little clasped hands whose grace and delicacy she had so 
often admii^d, then she bent over the sweet face, waxen 
pale, and murmured tender words, to which neither the 
closed eyes nor silent lips could ever answer. 

When the morning began to dawn, the old watcher 
rose, then slowly, as if it cost much to hide it from her 
sight, covered the pale face of the dead and went out. 
Aunt Martha had put out her light, and slept, a happy 
slumber, broken by strange dreams which made her 
smile and murmur words which no one heard nor could 
have understood. 


CHAPTER III. 


^^AUNT MARTHA THE HUGUENOT.’’ 

Ho one in the village would have been able to tell 
exactly who was the one whom they called ^^Aunt 
Martha the Huguenot.” They only knew one thing, and 
that was that her religion was different from theirs ; and 
that doubtless explained why they left her alone, or why 
she chose to live so. 

They did not stop willingly to gossip with her ; in the 
^first place, because they hardly knew what to talk about, 
in the second place, because they were afraid ; and yet, 
many of the villagers remembered the day when, as a 
little girl, she came to the abbey accompanied by her 
father, who was very proud of being the last of one of 
the old Huguenot families whose faith neither sufferings 
nor persecution could conquer. 

A few weeks before that, the report came to the vil- 
lage that the old abbey had found a purchaser ; from 
that time, great had been the curiosity, and great was 
the disappointment when there came to the old home- 
stead a crippled soldier, gray and scarred, accompanied 
by a little girl, with large brown eyes, simply dressed in 
black. 

After that, the days passed at Silvereal as before. The 
16 


^‘AUNT MARTHA THE HUGUENOT.^’ 


17 


ex-soldier and his little girl, all alone in their establish- 
ment, rarely went to the village, and it was some time 
before they discovered that their presence was not agree- 
able to the inhabitants. 

Huguenots at the abbey ! That Imd never been known, 
and never should have been. They tried to make the 
new proprietor understand it, but he wisely shut his ears 
to all the small talk and insinuations. At first they were 
astonished, then they asked themselves if he was not 
right, and soon they perceived that, if he spoke little, 
his words were worth a great deal, and that, what to the 
villagers was worth a great deal more, his purse was 
always open at the recital of sorrow. 

Little by little, insinuations and ill-will gave way to 
respect and esteem ; they forgave the soldier the wrong 
of his birthright. 

The years rolled away ; the old man^s moustache had 
grown white, and his step less firm. Without admitting 
it, he was not sorry that his little Martha was now a 
strong young girl, on whose arm he could trustfully lean 
during their daily walks. 

Martha saw her father grow weaker, and became anx- 
ious. He had been long since forced to renounce his 
visits to Arles where his old friend, formerly his chap- 
lain, lived. It was now the latter’s turn to come and 
inquire after the sick soldier. 

The walks became shorter every day; soon the soldier 
did not leave his seat before the house ; his pipe became 


18 


A nAPPY FIND. 


too much for him; the end was drawing near, and he 
watched its coming with a tranquil heart. 

One evening he called his daughter to him, he was 
somewhat uneasy about her. 

‘‘I have done wrong, perhaps, to bring you here, 
Martha; I only thought of myself in leaving Arles, 
after your mother’s death ; you will find yourself very 
lonely, you had better return there, if you should suc- 
ceed in selling the abbey.” 

“ Do not worry about it, father.” 

That was all she said, then she bent over to kiss the 
sick man’s brow, and went away to weep alone. 

Some days later, notwithstanding the physician’s care, 
in spite of the pastor’s prayers, and his daughter’s grief, 
the old soldier went on his last furlough. He went with 
untroubled brow and joyous look, to lay all his burdens 
forever upon the friend who had never failed him. 

Martha would have wished to remain at the abbey, in 
the midst of her cherished memories; but they would 
not let her ; the old minister pleaded his cause so earn- 
estly that she was forced to listen to him. 

His home, he said, was very lonely, above all, during 
his son’s absence; later, when he came back, Martha 
could do as she chose, and return to the abbey if she 
wished. Meanwhile, why not come and brighten the 
home, and take the empty place ? Martha obeyed, 
thinking only of accomplishing her new duties, and 
living for her old frietnd. 


^^AVNT MATtTTtA THE nVGUENOTy 19 

Two years passed, two years of a calm and happy life, 
at the end of which the old man saw his most ardent 
desire realized. 

His son returned ; his son, talented, courageous, came 
to take hi§ place. It mattered little now if his strength 
diminished, his task would not remain unfinished, his 
child was there to take it up as he laid it down. 

As to Martha, she must not go away, they needed her 
more than ever, and could not do without her. 

So Martha stayed, and the old abbey remained closed 
and silent. But who ever thought of it ? Not the 
young girl who felt herself day by day, more and more 
attached to the little parsonage and its inmates ; nor the 
old pastor to whom she was at once, mother, daughter, 
and servant. 

With her light step, Martha continued to go and 
come about the house, keeping all things in order, tend- 
ing the garden, watching over all, thinking only of the 
well-being and happiness of her friends. 

Time passes quickly when the heart is gay ; for the 
young girl, it fled as in a dream ; she only awaked one 
day when she held her old friend’s cold hands in hers. 

For the second time Martha was an orphan ; but she 
was not alone in her sorrow, and she did not forget it. 
Henceforth, she lived only for the one who, like herself, 
had lost a father and adviser. Was it not her duty to 
aid him, to comfort him, whose activity knew no respite, 
who always forgot himself for others, who had only one 


20 


A HAPPY HIND. 


aim, one ambition, — to be found watching when the 
Master came ? To protect him from all pain, all per- 
plexity, to bring into his grave eyes a 303^111 light, a 
flash of gratitude, was Martha’s only thought during all 
the hours of the day. 

Oh ! if he had seen with what exact and tender care 
she prepared his repast, arranged his room, filled with 
flowers the vases on his bureau, rearranged the linen for 
his use. . . . But he saw nothing, remarked nothing; 
neither her grave beauty, nor slender and graceful 
figure ; neither the music of her voice, the light of her 
eyes, nor the fleeting roses of her cheeks. He saw in 
Martha, only a sister, placed by Providence in his path- 
way, a sister who sought to brighten his life; and he 
thanked God for the gift, and showed his gratitude to 
her by accepting the sacrifice of her life and devotion. 

One evening, several years later, as they were about to 
separate for the night, the young minister took Martha’s 
hand in his, and told her in a moved voice that an angel, 
a fairy, he hardly knew what name to give her, would 
soon come to brighten his hearth, and share his life. 
At the same time, he 'begged her to remain with them; 
he was sure that his young wife would be glad of her 
advice, and Martha knew already that he loved her as a 
sister, and" that her departure would grieve him greatly. 

The light color which had mounted to the young girl’s 
cheeks when she felt her hand thus imprisoned, had 
disappeared; she kept her eyes fixed upon the grave 


^^AUNT iflARTlIA THE HUGUENOT:^ 21 

face, whose every feature she knew so well; she saw 
the emotion which made his lips quiver and his eyes 
glow, and she could not speak. 

Martha, you do not answer me.’’ 

^^God bless you, and make you happy, perfectly 
happy.” 

“You will stay, Martha; you will be her sister, as you 
have been mine.” 

“ You will not need me.” She drew her hand away 
slowly, smiled even, and sought her room. 

Some weeks later the old abbey shutters, closed for six 
years, were wide open. The sunlight, joyous in meeting 
no obstacles, penetrated everywhere like a heedless child, 
who is only kept at a distance because compelled. 

Martha had come back ! Every one in the village had 
heard of it, and had come to greet her, and offer assis- 
tance, and every one had gone home resolved never to 
renew an offer so politely, but so coldly declined. 

“ Martha may get along as best she can,” said they ; 
“did any one ever see such haughtiness, and such a 
dismal face ! But one might have expected it, she was 
always proud, even when she was only a little girl, and 
when she refused to play with children of her own age.” 

And while her visitors returned home, discontented 
and hurt, Martha, never thinking of their grievances, put 
everything in order in her home, washed floors and win- 
dows, hung curtains, stretched carpets, and tried to give 
back to the old home the comfortable look of its former 




A HAPPY FIND. 


days. Everything found its old place : here, her 
father’s armchair j there, the good lamp which had 
brightened so many watchful nights ; on this shelf, the 
Bible which she could never reach, formerly, without 
the help of a footstool. 

Little by little the old abbey resumed the aspect of 
those happy days, but the deep voice of the soldier and 
the child’s prattle were gone. The little garden, too, 
became gay with its beds of salad, and its rows of pinks 
and asters. 

In the poultry yard, duckings that promised well 
were not slow in making themselves heard; there, at 
least, life and animation reigned ; with the early dawn, 
two noisy cocks sounded their war-cry ; a little later in 
the day, the hens took their turn. 

At the stable, three pretty goats were domiciled, and 
there Martha passed the greater part of her day. So, 
always busy, always at work, she tried to forget, not to 
think, to keep strong ; besides, of what did she have to 
complain ? Had she not all she needed, and more ? 
She was lonely, it is true, but her lot was that of many. 
And then, did she not know that God was just, and who 
was she to rebel or murmur ? 

One day, some months after her return, Martha had a 
visit from the young pastor and his wife, whom she had 
never seen since their marriage. 

She was at first a little nervous, her lips became 
white, and her manner embarrassed ; but she soon con- 


^^AUNT MARTHA THE HUGUENOT:* 23 

trolled herself, aiid it was with a pleasant smile that she 
entertained her guests, and did the honors of her little 
kingdom to the young bride. She conducted her every- 
where ; k) the flowery orchard, to the stable ; not a cor- 
ner was forgotten ; nevertheless, occupied as she was, 
the day seemed very long ; but when, at the moment of 
departure, the gentle little wife rose on tiptoes to kiss 
her, Martha felt her eyes moisten, and returned her 
caress without an effort ; then she watched her depart, 
bright and joyous, on her husband’s arm. 

Standing in her doorway, her hand shielding her eyes 
as if to protect them from the sunlight, long since disap- 
peared, Martha could not tear herself from her post. 

For her,” thought she, “ happiness ; — for her, love, 
an active and useful life ; — for her, the privilege of 
sharing his work, his sorrows, his joys ; — for her, the 
task, sweetest of all, of making him happy; for me, 
loneliness, solitude, always, always. But who am I to 
murmur ? ” Martha entered the house slowly, and shut 
the door behind her. 

The young girl was at first a little astonished at her 
isolation, then she grew accustomed to it, and had ended 
by liking it. 

Her solitude was broken once or twice a year, when 
she received the visit of her old friend ; that was a 
tribute of gratitude he owed her, and in which he never 
failed. He accomplished this duty with the religious 


24 


A HAPPY FIND. 


exactitude with which he did everything, sometimes ac- 
companied by his wife, sometimes alone ; later, with two 
or three small boys whom Martha spoiled. / 

Each spring saw him come with the same fidelity. But, 
as formerly he had ignored the young girl’s fresh beauty, 
30 now he was ignorant also of her sufferings ; he never 
remarked the silver threads in her brown hair, nor the 
wrinkles which hollowed her forehead, temples, and 
around her mouth. Martha, to him, was always the 
same, and the years did their work, unnoticed. To her 
name had been prefixed aunt, which one receives easily 
in the village, when one has attained ripe years, and that 
was Martha’s life when the little Koland appeared in her 
doorway, one beautiful evening, a baby in his arms, and 
a request in his eyes which her heart could not refuse. 


CHAPTER IV. 


TWO VISITORS. 

Come in/’ Aunt Martha responded, to a discreet tap 
at her door. It opened slowly, and showed a head 
framed in a white bonnet. 

Come in,” she repeated, recognizing the old servant 
from the cottage, I am all alone with my baby.” 

I came to see it,” answered the old woman ; “ it is 
not mere curiosity, I assure you. I met the little boy 
just as he was bringing it to you; it was I who told him 
to ask you. I was sure that you would be sorry for it. 
You know well that if my mistress had lived, it would 
not have been necessary to send him anywhere else.” 

“ Do you think she would have kept it ? ” 

The old woman did not answer, and seemed lost in 
thought. 

^^What a strange boy!” continued Aunt Martha. 
“ What made him think of taking it to the cottage 
when he knew your lady so slightly?” 

^‘You know he lived there some months himself, and 
then his mother died there, so I have heard.” 

It is true,” sighed Aunt Martha, I remember as if 
it were yesterday ; she was so young, almost a child, and 
so pretty ! Roland is her image ; but she was already 

25 


26 


A UAPPY FIND. 


very ill, poor little thing, and yet she never realized it 
any more than her husband. They both thought that 
our climate would cure that bad cough.’’ 

^^Is he dead, too?” asked the old woman, after a 
moment’s silence. 

I think not, but no one knows anything of him ? ” 
Then why has he not taken his son ? ” 

Oh ! you know men are like children ; they do not 
want any distraction from their grief, because they 
think themselves inconsolable. The child worried him, 
and he left it with Aunt Ursula, promising to come back 
for it soon. They say he is in America, now.” 

Poor little fellow, my mistress had noticed him, and 
it is not wonderful, such a handsome boy; she loved 
to see him pass the house, and they had become ac- 
customed to exchange little signals. That is all their 
acquaintance, but I am not surprised that he thought 
of carrying her his baby.” The old woman checked 
herself. 

never saw her,” said Aunt Martha; ‘^she hardly 
ever went out of her garden, and I rarely go in that 
direction, but I was grieved to hear of her death.” 

I saw that she was failing,” responded the servant, 
and yet I did not expect the end, though she had often 
spoken of it lately. On the contrary, I was hopeful, she 
was so brave that I always thought she would get over 
her sorrow ; but she is happy now, and I am the only 
pne to be pitied,” 


TWO VISITOBS, 


27 


Have you no family ? ” 

My family ? My family was her husband and her- 
self ; I took care of her since her childhood ; and I fol- 
lowed her after her marriage, and now I have closed her 
eyes.’’ 

Aunt Martha said nothing. 

‘^When all is over,” resumed the poor creature, 
shall go back to Switzerland. It is my country, but I 
hope I shall not stay there long.” 

Do you think of taking another place ? ” asked Aunt 
Martha, a little surprised. 

Heaven preserve me from it ! I hope God will have 
pity on me, and soon call me to join my master and mis- 
tress ; I am not very old, — not yet fifty, but I am tired 
of life, and should be glad to go.” 

It is sad for you to be alone at such a time,” said 
Aunt Martha, compassionately. “Do you expect any 
one for the funeral ? ” 

“No, no one,” responded the old woman, gloomily. 
“ Ah ! if you knew what I have seen — but I will say 
nothing, that must remain with them, and with me. — 
They are happy, now, they are together, I am the only 
one to be pitied ; but it will not be long ” — 

Aunt Martha did not hear her, she had raised her 
head, and was listening. No, she was not mistaken, it 
was her baby awake. She hurried away, and soon came 
back, radiant. 

“Here she is,” said she, approaching the old woman, 


28 


A HAPPY FIND. 


who rose also, and bent over the little face, where shone 
two clear blue eyes. 

<^Do you mean to keep her?” asked she, after an 
instant of silent contemplation. 

‘^Yes, if no one claims her.” 

‘^God bless you ! Yes, I know he will bless you,” and 
slowly, without raising her head, she moved towards the 
door. Good-by,” said she ; I will come back again, 
sometimes, before I go, if you will let me.” 

Certainly, as often as you like. Oh ! there is a new 
visitor. Come in, my boy.” And the old woman drew 
on one side as a curly head, and two eyes sparkling with 
pleasure, showed themselves. Then, with a bound, 
Roland was in the middle of the room. 

You come very late,” said Aunt Martha, passing her 
hand through the small man’s rebellious locks. 

They would not let me come sooner,” he replied, ex- 
tending his arms towards the baby which Aunt Martha 
tenderly pressed to her heart. 

She seemed uncertain, then, suddenly remembering 
that without this small boy she would not have been 
the happiest mother m the world, she laid the infant in 
his arms. 

Be careful with it,” said she, “ while I go and feed 
the goats, and shut the poultry -house. I have hardly 
done anything to-day.” 

When she came back, a half hour later, she found 
Roland sitting on the floor, lost in mute contemplation. 


TWO VISITORS. 


29 


The baby was lying in his lap, and answered his absorbed 
look, by that profound gravity which characterizes our 
entrance into life. 

The boy, deep in admiration, made for the hundredth 
time, the review of the soft chestnut hair, the pretty 
blue eyes, the mobile little mouth; and while studying 
this tiny face, he passed his hand over those velvet 
cheeks, wondering if his own had ever been so soft and 
white. 

Aunt Martha watched him, smilingly. 

Well, ” said she, ‘^what name ^hall we give to our 
little girl ? '' 

The boy seemed embarrassed. 

do not know any pretty one,’^ he answered, per- 
haps we could call her after you. Aunt Martha.’’ 

She shook her head. 

^^Ko, no,” said she; ^^not that. I have always been 
sorry that I was called Martha.” 

Why ? ” asked the child. 

Aunt Martha hesitated. 

Perhaps,” said she at last, “because the Saviour 
preferred Mary.” 

“ Oh, I know ! ” cried Poland ; and, springing up, he 
began to dance around the room. “ I know a name ! a 
name which is very pretty and very true ! ” 

The color had mounted to Aunt Martha’s cheeks ; she 
seized the boy, and, with a voice tremulous with emotion, 
exclaimed, — 


30 


A HAPPY FIND. 


it in that way that you take care of Aunt Ursula’s 
children ? I shall never dare to trust you with my 
little girl.” 

The lad looked at her in surprise. 

That does not hurt them, I assure you ! All babies 
like to be danced.” 

Aunt Martha smiled, and gently took possession of 
her treasure. 

“ Come,” said she, “ tell me this name which is both 
pretty and true.” 

said the^ little boy. “0 Aunt Martha! call 
her Aimee, will you not ? It is so true ! ” 

Aunt Martha’s eyes moistened. 

^‘Yes,” she murmured, “it is true.” And, pressing 
her cheek to that of the unconscious little one, she sent 
heaven-ward a mute prayer that the child’s name might 
be true all its life. 

Meantime Eoland had gone to the window, and looked 
out. 

“ Do you want to go ? ” asked Aunt Martha, but little 
accustomed to see her visitors remain long with her. 

“No,” responded the boyj “I should like to do some- 
thing for you.” 

“For me ? ” and the Huguenot’s voice betrayed aston- 
ishment and almost emotion. Why did this child desire 
to render her a service, who asked nothing of any one, 
and whom every one seemed to avoid ? 

Aim6e== beloved, much beloved. 


TWO VISITORS. 


31 


Will yon cut me some kindling for to-morrow ? 
The wood is in the woodhonse. The little one is going 
to sleep. I will light the fire, and, when you come back, 
the coffee will be ready.” 

Eoland did not wait to be asked a second time, and 
only came in when she called him. 

I have cut a good heap,” said he, and his eyes shone 
with pleasure. 

Aunt Martha seated her little guest in front of her, 
and had no trouble to put him at his ease. 

^^Do you hear from your father sometimes?” she 
asked, when the meal was nearly finished. 

A shadow suddenly crossed the child’s face, and his 
eyes grew dim. 

^^No,” he said, Aunt Ursula has not had a letter for 
a long time. She thinks that he has forgotten me.” 

Aunt Martha patted the little boy’s shoulder. 

“I hope not,” said she, and her voice was so gentle 
that two tears filled the blue eyes raised to hers. 

Where was he when he last wrote ? ” 

Still in America. He said that he was very busy, 
and that he would come after me as soon as he could.” 

“Well, we must believe it,” said Aunt Martha, brightly, 
“ and, meantime, be a good boy.” 

“ Can I come again to-morrow ? ” asked the child, 
thinking, doubtless, that that was the best answer. 
Aunt Martha smiled. 

“To-morrow,” said she, “I must go to the village 


32 


A HAPPY FIND. 


with my baby. I have to see some one, and to make 
some purchases.” 

Eoland had risen to take leave. 

I will come all the same,” said he. I shall look to 
see if the shutters are closed. 

He had started, when he turned back. The baby is 
yours, isn’t it ? ” 

‘^Yes,” answered Aunt Martha, ‘^if I am permitted to 
keep it. I am going to the village to-morrow to see 
about that.” 

I hope they will let you, and that I can come to see 
it every day.” And, without waiting for an answer, the 
curly head finally disappeared. 


CHAPTER V. 

AIM^E. 

The child was hers, her’s only. All the efforts made 
to discover its parents were in vain. 

“ One does not desert an infant to ask for it a fort- 
night later,’’ grumbled Aunt Ursula, when she learned 
that the finding of the baby had been advertised in all 
the papers. ^^That Huguenot has grown tired of it 
very quickly. I hope they will not find out anything, 
and that the little one will be left on her hands.” 

Her desire was gratified; but doubtless she would 
have been less proud of her triumph if she had seen 
Aunt Martha clasp to her heart this child which she had 
from the first considered as her own, look at it closely, 
inspect lovingly its delicate features, and give it the 
sweetest names which had ever risen from her heart to 
her lips. 

So great, so unexpected was her happiness, that she 
thought of it with her hands clasped, trembling. She, 
Martha Valrose, had been thought worthy to care for an 
infant ! She had no longer a solitary old age before 
her ; she had now near her one upon whom she could 
pour out all the affection her heart had so long hoarded, 
and which no one had ever desired. — It was too 
33 


34 


A HAPPY FIND. 


much happiness ! She no longer dared to say, God is 
just,’^ for who was she to expect such blessings ? 

But the child, without thought or care for its adopted 
mother’s agitated heart, grew and prospered, learned to 
know its surroundings, and to love Aunt Martha as if 
she had been its true mother. Already she greeted her 
approach by little cries and flutterings of joy ; already 
she had learned to hold out her round arms, and to give 
an irresistible expression to her pretty eyes ; and already 
the rosy mouth tried to form words to which Aunt 
Martha and Koland alone had the key. 

Time passed quickly for the lonely woman at the 
abbey, so quickly that she was almost frightened. 

It seems to me that it was yesterday that you 
brought her to me,” said she, one day to Koland, and, 
look, she is walking already ! ” 

How that year had flown ! AVhile she spoke, she fol- 
lowed with her eyes the tiny little creature who, all 
trembling, tried to use its own wings. 

Koland followed her, step by step, ready to help her 
in case of awkwardness. But the wilful little one would 
not even permit him to hold her dress, and uttered a 
sharp cry every time she saw him approach, or sent him 
away with an indignant gesture which delighted the 
spectators. 

But it was another thing when she began to chatter, 
to say real words, to form sentences ; how they were 
astonished then, how they marvelled, no words can tell. 


AIMEE. 


85 


Aimde was five years old, and never was baby at that 
happy age more tenderly guarded, more fondly loved 
than the little foundling. Never was baby, with father, 
mother, and home, happier than the little orphan. Care- 
less of the future, content with the happiness of the 
present, she would not have exchanged her lot with that 
of many children whose names and date of birth were 
duly enrolled in the civil registers. 

Aim^e knew, all the same, that, on a beautiful autumn 
afternoon, her friend Koland had found her, a little white 
daisy in the midst of the tall grass, and had carried her 
first to Aunt Ursula, who had refused to keep her. At 
this recital, so many times repeated, the child doubled 
her little fists, and frowned ; then her face lit up sud- 
denly, and her laugh rang out, clear and joyous, as she 
heard again how Aunt Martha had taken her in her 
arms, and refused to give her up. But here Boland 
never forgot to repeat to the child that she was 
his, as well as Aunt Martha’s, and, in his quality of 
proprietor, he thought it a duty to satisfy all her 
caprices, and it was no small thing, for the little one 
was supplied with what would have sufficed for a dozen 
children. 

But how could one refuse a request from those blue 
eyes, lifted so pleadingly ? How say ^no’ to those rosy 
lips, so ready to give their payment.” 

Not Aunt Martha, who so prided herself on her firm- 
ness with the child, who never realized that the tiny 


86 


A HAPPY FIND. 


creature controlled the abbey and its inmates, Aunt 
Martha first of all. 

But who dreamed of complaining ? What is sweeter 
than to obey — to sacrifice one’s self for one whom we 
love ? Besides, the child had no serious fault. Who of 
us has not been wilful, obstinate, angry ? Who of us 
has not lifted the hand against the one who has nursed 
and cared for us, and then condoned all faults by a 
prompt repentance and tearful caresses. 

How could Aunt Martha resist, any more than an- 
other, the little arms which clasped her neck, nor the 
sweet voice which promised better things for the future. 
Besides, Aimc^e possessed, in her adopted mother’s eyes, 
the first of all qualities ; she was true, true by nature, 
but true also as a child who feels instinctively that all 
her faults are pardoned in advance, and that nothing is 
gained by hiding them. 

Aunt Martha watched her child’s development, silent 
and delighted, and at each new discovery renewed her 
mute thanksgivings. 

It was worth while to live, now, to beautify the abbey, 
to plant new trees in the orchard behind the courtyard. 
The child adored animals, and already the number of 
hens had been doubled, and a little lamb had taken its 
place in the stable, besides the goats. She loved flowers ; 
— the beds in the garden grew larger. She liked walks ; 
they took long ones, on the beach, in the forest, in the 
village, everywhere it pleased her to go. She loved cats j 


AIMEE. 


37 


Aunt Martha detested them, nevertheless, one fine day, 
a jet-black kitten made its triumphant entrance into 
the abbey. 

To Aunt Martha’s love for solitude. Miss Aimee soon 
opposed a pronounced taste for society. In spite of her- 
self, it was necessary to follow her into all the houses in 
the village, to stop with all the passers-by, and to permit 
her to greet all the little barefooted children by the 
roadside. 

And Aunt Martha found a smile for all those who wel- 
comed her little girl ; from one place to another, they 
began to know her, and to appreciate her. It even hap- 
pened that, after Aunt Martha had knit a petticoat for 
Aimee, she knit a second one with the rest of the wool, 
and they carried it together to the happy recipient ; and 
it was the same with stockings, flannels, and many 
other things. Soon the words came naturally to Aunt 
Martha’s lips, — ^ Come to the abbey when you need any- 
thing ; ” and they came and never regretted it, and each 
one soon knew that under her grave and haughty exte- 
rior the Huguenot hid a generous heart. 


CHAPTER VI. 


REMINISCENCES. 

The day was closing. Aunt Martha’s clasped hands 
rested motionless in her lap. She had raised her head 
from her work, and had watched the rosy clouds which 
floated brightly in the azure sky. The day had been 
gray and rainy ; but, towards evening, a light breeze had 
sprung up, and little by little had scattered the sombre 
clouds, leaving only the delicate gilded ones which con- 
tinued to disperse, some in vagabond troops, some soli- 
tary, according to their individual caprices. 

Aunt Martha had grown old, her beautiful brown hair, 
now gray, was imprisoned under a pretty white cap, 
which framed her face, and gave to her somewhat severe 
features, an air of unaccustomed gentleness. 

Aunt Martha was dreaming. 

Her life, like the day which was closing, had also been 
gray and rainy. But what a glorious sunset ! Twelve 
years of happiness, — happiness almost without alloy. 
Twelve happy years during which she had learned the 
power, the goodness, the love of God. Twelve years, 
during which she had seen prosper almost uninterrupt- 
edly, the delicate plant confided to her care, 


BEMINISCENCES. 


39 

Yes, Aunt Martha could only thank God; the little 
white-robed creature brought by Eoland was now a 
beautiful little girl, whom she could hear at this moment 
singing in the adjoining room. 

And Aunt Martha once more reviewed in her heart 
the first years of the child’s life ; again, she saw her 
grow and develop, take her first steps, prattle her first 
words, spell her first syllables ; then, suddenly, a terri- 
ble memory oppressed her heart. It was an evening 
when Aunt Martha learned that a cruel fever had broken 
out among the village children. She felt herself lost, 
believed herself already deprived of her treasure, who 
was waiting for her in the doorway, all rosy and 
smiling. 

During many days the funeral bell had not ceased its 
mournful tolling, and at each sound Aunt Martha clasped 
her hands, and lifted her heart towards the Consoler of 
the afflicted, towards the God of pity. 

At last the epidemic diminished, and Aunt Martha 
was beginning to breathe again, when, one morning, a 
hoarse little voice murmured, ^^Aunt Martha, I am 
sick,” a distressed little face was lifted towards her’s, 
and the child pressed her throat with her tiny hand. 

Aunt Martha understood. 

During several days Aimee was between life and 
death, and those days were never forgotten by her 
adopted mother ; she heard again the moans of the little 
sufferer, she saw the anxious look which seemed to ask 


40 


A HAPPY FIND. 


why she suffered, those pleading eyes which implored 
relief which she was powerless to give. Then the 
moans had ceased, the beautiful eyes were closed, a 
strange pallor had covered the child’s brow. Aunt 
Martha, kneeling by the little bed, her face hidden, 
murmured low, ^^Not my will, but thine, 0 Lord. Thou 
hast lent her to me, she is Thine.” Aunt Martha was 
conquered, her heart, though broken, was submissive. 
And the angel of death had passed by, his wings did not 
touch the sick child. Aimee, her little Aimee, was given 
back to her. Slowly life came back to her eyes, smiles 
to her lips, and health to her limbs. 

Oh ! what a moment ! what joy ! what gayety ! Either 
Boland or herself always carried the little invalid into 
the garden, amused her, sacrificed themselves for her. 
And the days flew, carrying with them the last moment 
of uneasiness. Aunt Martha looked at her recovered 
treasure no longer, as she had so often done, anxiously^ 
uneasily, but calmly and gratefully ; she had learned to 
take her happiness no longer with trembling, but with 
thanksgiving. 

Boland, the faithful friend, who came regularly at the 
close of every day, was certainly not the least happy 
of the three. — What pleasant moments, what happy 
Sunday afternoons they had passed together! She 
seemed to hear him now, mingling his falsetto with 
her voice when she tried to teach the child the old 
Huguenot hymns. 


REMINISCENCES. 


41 


A rather sad smile lit up her face. 

Those were happy moments which could never return, 
for Eoland was now far away, on the other side of the 
sea. She seemed to see him now, open the door half 
way, showing his curly head, then, with a bound, spring 
into the room crying breathlessly : Aunt Martha, Aunt 
Martha, my father has come ! And in his joy he had 
taken the little Aimee on his back, and danced around 
the room. 

Your father, my boy ? I am very glad.” 

Oh ! Aunt Martha, he is so handsome, and so good ; 
he has given Aunt Ursula so much money, and now she 
is as gentle as a dove.” 

Aunt Martha had smiled. 

“And has he come back to establish himself here in 
France ? ” 

“ No, he came to find me. We are to start at once. 
And just think, Aunt Martha, he is married again, and I 
have little brothers and sisters who only speak English, 
and who will not understand a word I say to them ! 
Isn’t it funny ? ” 

“ So you are going to leave us, my boy ? ” 

Eoland had stopped short, he had not thought of that. 
His bright face sobered, he threw his arms around Aunt 
Martha’s neck, and burst into tears. Aunt Martha wept 
also, and Aimee looked at them, a child’s wondering look. 

Eoland had gone. Aunt Martha had kissed his fore- 
head, and placed a book in his hand. 


42 


A HAPPY FIND. 


It is a Bible/^ she had said, ‘‘ read it, my boy. It 
will keep you from harm.’’ 

The poor child had not answered except by a sign of 
assent ; then he had taken little Aimee in his arms, had 
kissed her, and quitted the abbey without a word. 

Some weeks later, a thick letter with an American 
stamp told them of Eoland’s arrival in his new home. 
And during many months, he was for the abbey’s in- 
mates, as faithful a correspondent as he had been a friend. 

But Aunt Martha, who never forgot his name in her 
prayers, had not shown herself so zealous in her replies, 
and the correspondence languished, and, after one or 
two years, ceased entirely. 

It is not wonderful,” thought Aunt Martha, who, all 
the same, felt herself a little guilty, “Eoland cannot 
pass his life in writing, any more than I ; he is now a 
big boy of fourteen or fifteen, busy with his studies, the 
profession of his choice.” No, no, she was not angry with 
him^ she was sure it was not forgetfulness. Did she 
not know by experience that one can love one’s friends, 
remain faithful to them, and nevertheless, never find 
time to write to them, and she was ready to cite herself 
as an instance to any one who would have dared to con- 
tradict her. 

Besides, Aimee was nearly seven years old, there was 
no time to spare ; they played school in earnest, but a 
school for two, where it was permitted to kiss each other 
between each lesson, 


nmilNlSCENCES. 


43 


Aunt Martha had fished her old school books from 
their depths, where they had slept for more than thirty 
years, and set herself to review her grammar in order 
to explain it to her little pupil; then showed her the 
names of countries on an old map, all yellow and faded 
with age. As for history, there was no need of a book, 
for Aunt Martha had the history of France at her fingers’ 
ends. But when they came to arithmetic, she stopped 
short after the four rules, and declared that was all that 
was necessary to go through life without embarrassment. 
They did not even go into fractions, for she had always 
found it easier to add or subtract halves and quarters in 
her head than upon paper. 

Aimee, like all intelligent children, did not much like 
work, and loved holidays ; but that did not prevent her 
from making progress, which delighted her teacher, and 
soon embarrassed her. 

What would she do when the little girl had gone 
beyond her ? And that will come soon enough,” 
thought Aunt Martha, that evening as she watched the 
light clouds which had gradually lost their brilliant 
colors, and disappeared behind the mountains. What 
would she do ? Put Aimee in a boarding-school ? Send 
her away ? Never ! She would rather go to school with 
her than part with her. 

She was in the midst of these reflections when the 
door opened, and a graceful child, not too large, nor too 
thin, but slender and agile, sprang towards her chair, 


44 


A HAPPY FIND. 


and, without ceremony, flung away the work which lay 
on Aunt Martha’s lap, and established herself in its 
place. 

Oh ! how nice it is here,” and she nestled like a little 
bird who tries to make his nest still more comfortable. 

<^Aunt Martha, what a quantity of preserves! I 
thought I should never finish covering them.” 

For all answer. Aunt Martha kissed the lazy little 
girl’s forehead. 

Aimee, I think that soon, in a year, perhaps ” — 

A year ! but that is not soon.” 

Aunt Martha smiled. 

Let me speak ; child, I thought that in a year’s time, 
I should be obliged to send you to a boarding-school.” 

A boarding-school ? What for ? ” And two eyes, 
gray rather than blue, bordered with long lashes, were 
fixed in surprise upon the face bent over her’s. 

I want you to learn many things that I cannot teach 
you, and that is the only way.” 

The mass of blonde hair was quickly shaken by a 
decided movement of the little head. 

^^Do you not want to know many things, and to be 
able to speak several languages ? ” 

“ To speak with whom ? With you. Aunt Martha ? ” 
“ No, unfortunately, for I only know French.” 

Then, I do not know what good it will do me ; I can- 
not talk to myself, alone.” 

But you could read, Aimee, that would be very nice ; 


MEMINISCENCES. 45 

besides, I have always regretted that I did not know 
many things.” 

“ No, I do not want to go to a boarding-school, I want 
to stay here at the abbey, and speak French, nothing but 
French.” 

Aunt Martha said nothing, but remained thoughtful. 
If her means permitted, she would establish herself at 
Arles, rent a few rooms, and so keep her child near her. 
Her income, though very small, might, perhaps, suffice 
for such an expense. One of these days she would write 
to Monsieur Arnauld, to explain her project, and, in one 
or two years, when the time had come to give Aimee 
superior instruction, they would leave the abbey to- 
gether, and return together. A sigh of relief rose to her 
lips. 

*^Now, Aim^e, get down; I must go to prepare 
supper.” 

I will get down, if you promise not to send me to a 
boarding-school.” 

I promise you one thing, my little girl, and that is, 
not to part with you, if I can help it.” 

For all answer, two arms surrounded her neck passion- 
ately, and the embrace lasted so long that Aunt Martha 
was released crimson and half-choked. • 


CHAPTER VII. 


A PAINFUL DISCUSSION. 

The problem was solved, so thought Aunt Martha; 
and, with a light step, she went about her numerous 
duties. 

As for Aimee, no shadow of care or apprehension had 
ever touched her heart. They continued to live, as in 
the past, a happy life, full of activity, rich in tenderness, 
and devotion. The child never asked herself if she was 
happy in her lot, the idea never came to her that it 
could be different ; Aunt Martha was sufficient for her 
happiness, and the abbey with its garden, orchard, and 
stable was a kingdom where she reigned sovereign, and 
where no one thought of disputing her authority. 

She it was who cared for the gardens, who every day 
went to the poultry-yard to look for fresh eggs, whom 
the feathered tribe greeted with joyous flutterings and 
concerts, more expressive than harmonious ; — she it was 
who climbed the fruit trees, and like a bird suspended 
herself to the branches, while her agile fingers robbed 
them of their wealth ; — she it was who went, afterwards, 
from house to house, to carry the surplus’’ of these 
harvests, a surplus which Aunt Martha never found too 
abundant; — she it was, who, during the winter evenings, 
46 


A PAINFUL DISCUSSION. 


47 


read to Aunt Martha, chattered after her fashion, form- 
ing a thousand delicious plans for the future, to which 
Aunt Martha listened in silence, as she mended the piles 
of stockings which the child’s small feet knew how to 
wear out so quickly. 

So rolled away two years, two happy years, all sun- 
shine and joy. 

The winter was gone. Already the spring breathed 
gently upon the orchard trees, which, obedient to her 
call, clothed themselves noiselessly in their white robes, 
while the daisies and dandelions started up at their feet. 

Aunt Martha, there is Monsieur Arnauld. I saw him 
at the foot of the path.” But the young girl’s voice, 
announcing this, did not express joyful surprise, and her 
bent brows betrayed fear rather than pleasure. 

Monsieur Arnauld,” repeated Aunt Martha, ex- 
pected a letter from him, not a visit, certainly. Show 
him into the salon, Aimee, and ask him to wait for me a 
minute.” 

Some seconds later, the visitor was shown into the 
salon, which was rarely occupied, and summer and 
winter had a cold, stiff, and deserted look. 

“ I am ready,” said Aunt Martha, taking off her white 
apron ; “ but, Aimee, instead of waiting for me here, you 
ought to have remained with Monsieur Arnauld. It 
would have been more polite.” 

The little girl contented herself with ap expressive 
grimace. 


48 


A JIAPPr FIND. 


continued Aunt Martha, since you do not 
like to stay in the room, you can prepare us some 
coffee/’ 

So saying, she quickly disappeared. 

“I did not expect a visit from you,” said she, after 
having welcomed her friend ; I will light a fire at once, 
it is always a little cool in this room.” And, suiting the 
action to the word, Aunt Martha soon had a bright fire, 
which made the room cheerful ; then she drew up an 
armchair and installed the pastor therein. 

“You did not expect me, Martha,” said he, at last. 
“I am not surprised at that, but I thought it best to 
answer your letter in person.” 

He cleared his throat. 

“ I wish,” continued he, “ to speak to you in all frank- 
ness, as, indeed, I have always done.” 

Aunt Martha looked at the fire, without answering. 

“You know, Martha, that I was the first one to en- 
courage you to keep Aimee, and to rejoice in what 
seemed your happiness. But, to-day I do not in the 
least approve of your projects. What is the good of 
giving that child a superior education ? Why place her 
thus above you, above those with whom she is destined 
to live ? ” 

“ I thought,” responded Aunt Martha, without raising 
her eyes from the fire, “ that it was my duty to give her 
the same education which she would have received from 
her own family.” 


A PAINFUL DlSCUSSiOir. 


49 


“ There again, I should have objections to raise. First 
of all, who tells you that the child has ever belonged to a 
family of good i^osition ? But, admitting that it is so, is 
it reasonable to educate her for a position which she will 
never fill ? why give her tastes that she cannot satisfy, 
and which will certainly render her discontented with 
her lot ? 

I am not afraid of that,” said Aunt Martha, quietly ; 

education spoils only foolish people, or those who have 
too little of it to know wherein they are lacking. Your 
objections would be just if applied to a person of a dif- 
ferent disposition.” 

‘^That is just your error, Martha,” interrupted the 
pastor. “From what I have seen, Aimee has great need 
of learning humility. She is too wilful, too capricious, 
too proud for her position.” 

“You do not know her well enough to judge her,” 
responded Aunt Martha, always with the same tran- 
quillity. 

“It is not necessary to have much acquaintance, to 
see that she does what she pleases with you.” 

Aunt Martha smiled. 

“ If I had listened to her, I should never have written 
to you, and there would be no question of leaving the 
abbey.” 

“ In this case, you are more than ever wrong, and if I 
were you, instead of sending her to school, I would teach 
her to direct a household, to wash the linen, to occupy 


50 


A IIA^PY find. 


herself with the garden ; not to plant flowers only, but 
to cultivate it generally.” 

“ Do you think that Aiinee looks strong enough to use 
the tools necessary for a garden?” interrupted Aunt 
Martha, her face slightly flushed ; look at her hands, 
her waist, her flgure generally, and tell me if you think 
her made for the work of which you speak.” 

That is exactly what ought not to be ; if you had ac- 
customed that child to work, she would now be a strong 
young girl, capable of making herself useful, and of shar- 
ing your labors.” 

I doubt whether that would have changed her consti- 
tution. Besides, while household duties are not to her 
taste, Aimee does willingly all that I ask her.” 

Then why send her to a boarding-school ? ” 

Because I believe that I should do my duty by her.” 

I fear that you are blinding yourself, and that you 
will regret it later. Aimee, as I just told you, needs 
above all to learn modesty, a branch that is not taught 
in boarding-schools. I do not like to see her so noisy, 
so gay ; in a word, with so little realization of her 
position.” 

Aunt Martha’s cheeks had grown crimson, her heart 
beat so vehemently that she was forced to put her hand 
to her side. 

The pastor continued, — “ I feared, as indeed it turns 
out, that I should not succeed in dissuading you, but I 
have done my duty, and that is the essential thing. Let 


A PAINFUL DISCUSSION. 


51 


us speak now of your project of establishing yourself at 
Arles. My wife has already been busy trying to find 
you rooms, but, up to the present time, all her search has 
been in vain. The price is far beyond what you can 
pay ; this new establishment will force you to sell the 
abbey.’’ 

Aunt Martha’s face darkened. 

I see only one way to avoid it,” pursued the min- 
ister, and it is to speak of that, that I came ; I hope 
thus to prove my desire to be useful to you, and to do 
good to your adopted daughter. 

If you consent,” pursued he, to separate yourself 
from Aimee, my wife will take charge of her, willingly, 
and will care for her as if she was her own child. She 
shall attend, as you desire, one of our best schools, and 
I, on my side, will do all in my power for her edu- 
cation.” 

Ko, no, not that,” interrupted Aunt Martha, who, in 
her agitation, laid her hand on Monsieur Arnauld’s arm. 

No, not that ; you are very good, both of you. I do 
not know how to thank you, but if I part with Aimee, I 
prefer to put her in a boarding-school.” 

May I know the reason of your refusal ? ” 

Aunt Martha had risen. 

I beg of you, do not think me ungrateful ; I know 
you are very good, I thank you, but I cannot accept.” 

She checked herself for a moment. I think,” she 
continued, ^^that you have never understood Airaee’s 


52 


A JIAPPr FIND. 


character, and I fear you could not get along ; and then, 
there is another reason.’^ She hesitated, and blushed 
a little. Though Aimee is still so young, only four- 
teen, the years pass quickly, and you have sons, whom 
she will see every day.’’ 

Fear nothing, Martha,” interrupted the pastor, smil- 
ing. “ Thank God, our sons know their duty too well 
to form any light attachment ; they would never cause 
us such a grief.” 

Do you imagine that I have thought of them ? ” 
cried Aunt Martha, “ no, I thought only of my child. I 
have been young myself, I have suffered, and I wished 
to spare her.” She seated herself again, and hid her 
face in her hands. How could she have dreamed of it ? 
How, in her blind tenderness, had she been able to for- 
get that her child had not the right to love ? Oh ! the 
cruel world which condemns to solitude an innocent 
being, because no one knows the father’s and mother’s 
name ! 

“Martha, I never saw you so unreasonable. What 
have I said that could have grieved you thus ? ” 

She rose, and tried to smile. 

“You must need something ; the coffee has been ready 
long ago.” And, without waiting his answer, she pre- 
ceded her guest into the dining-room. 

Some moments later, they walked together the path 
leading to the high road. 

“ I thank you for troubling yourself for me,” said 


A PAINFUL DISCUSSION. 


53 


Aunt Martha, as they approached the little inn at which 
the pastor always stopped. 

I have done it very willingly,’’ he answered ; you 
know that I am always glad to be useful to you. Write 
me when you decide.” 

Thank you. I wish to think about it a little more.” 
She held out her hand to him, and they separated. 


CHAPTEE VIII. 


AUNT Martha’s sickness. 

Aunt Martha slowly took the abbey path, her head 
bent, absorbed in sad thoughts. She felt neither the 
dampness, nor the penetrating chill of that spring even- 
ing. Her heart revolted against the world’s injustice, 
against man’s egotism. Nature itself seemed cold and 
stern. All at once a merry cry caused her to raise her 
head ; Aimee, followed by the three goats, was running 
to meet her. 

I thought that he would never go ! Oh, Aunt 
Martha, what a good thing that he does not come often.” 

What an escort ! ” said Aunt Martha, gently patting 
the pretty heads, which so unceremoniously presented 
their horny foreheads. 

He has made you cry ! ” exclaimed the young girl, 
remarking the red eyes of her adopted mother. Oh, 
Aunt Martha, I hate him.” 

Aimee, it is wrong to speak so.” 

But it is true ; if I said otherwise, I should tell a 
falsehood, and that would be worse still ; I hate all the 
people who hurt you, and I would like to kill them,” she 
cried, vehemently. 

^^Aim4e, you grieve me greatly. 


AUNT MAUTIIA'S SICKNESS. 


55 


The child threw herself on Aunt Martha’s neck. 

“ I will never give you the least pain, but I cannot 
love those who make you cry. Do you like him much, 
Aunt Martha ? ” 

I liked him very much, formerly, and I have great 
confidence in him, still.” 

Aimee made a face. 

Shall we see much of him at Arles ? ” 

“ Nothing is decided yet, my darling ; this change will 
cost me more than I thought.” 

Then we will stay here, that is all.” 

Aunt Martha sighed, and both continued their walk in 
silence. 

^^You are cold,’^ cried the little girl, suddenly; 
have seen you shiver twice ; let us run. Aunt Martha, 
that will be such fun.” 

‘^No, no, Minette,* I cannot run any more, I am too 
old ; I shall warm myself with some coffee.” 

But with all the good will in the world. Aunt Martha 
could only carry her cup to her lips; she remained 
thoughtful, her head leaning on her hand. 

It is not nice of you to eat so little when I took such 
pains to prepare supper,” said Aimee. 

I have a little pain here,” and Aunt Martha put her 
hand to her side ; “ I think I have taken cold, the air is 
still very damp, and the room seemed so cold.” 

“ And you did not put on a shawl to go out ! ” 

* Minette = Kitten, pussy. A term of endearment. 


56 


A HAPPY FIND. 


That is nothing, I will go to bed early, and to-morrow 
I shall not even remember it/’ 

“ No, Aunt Martha, you shall not go out any more this 
evening,” cried the young girl, seeing her rise and move 
towards the door ; I can very well look after the goats, 
and shut the poultry-house.” 

Aunt Martha did not insist, and began to clear the 
table ; but that work, simple as it was, took a long time ; 
at every quick movement the pain in her side increased. 
She had soon to leave her work, and seat herself in her 
armchair. 

^‘It is singular,” thought she; am certainly not 
sick, I have never been so.” A shiver shook her from 
head to foot. have taken cold,^hat is all. When 
Aimee comes back, 1 will ask her to make me some 
tea.” 

But the remedy did not produce the desired effect, and 
Aunt Martha, shivering more and more, went to her bed- 
room, repeating again that it was only a cold. She 
wished to reassure the young girl, forgetting that those 
who know nothing of danger, never dream of it. 

When the little housekeeper had put everything in 
order, she looked around her with a satisfied glance, 
then took her candle, and went towards the bedroom, 
the door of which she opened noiselessly. 

Is it you, Koland ? ” asked Aunt Martha. 

At those strange words Aim^e stopped short. Aunt 
Martha was sitting up in bed, her eyes wide open. 


AUNT MARTHA^ S SICKNESS, 


57 


Come in,” she continued, “ the little one is sleeping, 
she will not wake.” 

It is I, Aunt Martha ; it is I, Aimee ! ” 

“ Ah ! it is you, my little girl.” 

Aunt Martha, don’t you know me ? ” 

“Why, yes, my darling; have I said anything? I 
have been dreaming, doubtless,” and she sank back on 
her pillow, and closed her eyes. 

Aimee remained motionless by the bed, her heart 
oppressed with a vague fear. 

“I am sure of it,” murmured Aunt Martha; “that 
paper makes it certain. ‘Have pity.’ That means for- 
ever ; do you not think so, Eoland ? Take care, don’t 
run so fast; there, she is crying now; give her to me, 
you are a bad boy, Eoland.” 

Aunt Martha opened her eyes again. 

“ I have only been dreaming,” she murmured ; 
“ I thought that you were crying, Aimee — I am 
thirsty.” 

The child ran after some water, which the sick one 
drank eagerly. 

“ I do not know what is the matter with me,” she re- 
sumed, “I sleep so badly. You ought to go to bed, 
Aimee.” 

“ If I only could take off that stone he put here, and 
which hinders me from breathing. Do not go away, 
child, I want you ; between us two, perhaps we can lift it. 
It is very heavy, that was why I could not run ; he did 


58 


HAPPY FIND. 


it from a sense of duty, he does everything so. — Will 
you not help me ? ” 

For all answer, the little girl clasped Aunt Martha’s 
neck, convulsively, and began to sob. 

There, there, my darling, why do you give way like 
that ? Do not press me so, I cannot breathe. Yes, that 
is it, put your cheek against mine ; how cool it is, I am 
burning, am I not ? Give me your hands, they are so 
tiny, so soft, not at all made for hard work.” 

And Aunt Martha laughed, and went on talking, 
sometimes in a low and unintelligible voice, sometimes 
louder, opening her eyes suddenly, as if she woke from a 
dream, into which she dropped immediately, mixing her 
memories of the past with her present cares, her dreams 
of the past with those of the future. 

When the first gleam of daylight penetrated into the 
room, it fell upon little Aimee, kneeling by Aunt Mar- 
tha’s bed, her head bent upon the coverlid, and sound 
asleep. The sick woman opened her eyes, and her look 
fell first upon the child, kneeling near her, then upon 
the untouched bed at the other end of the room. 

She sat up to collect her thoughts. What a strange 
night, she never remembered to have passed one like it ; 
all her body seemed bruised, and she had a keen pain in 
her side, which increased at every breath. 

And why was not Aimee in her own bed ? If only she 
could remember; but no, her head was too heavy, she 
mu9t lie dpwn again, and try to sleep. 


AUNT MABTBA'S SICKNESS. 59 

Her movement woke the child, who opened her eyes. 

They met those of the sick woman. 

“ Are you better, Aunt Martha ? 

“Hot yet, my darling, but I shall be as soon as I have 
slept. Are you sure that you have not taken cold?’^ 
she added, uneasily; “you ought not to have stayed by 
me.’’ 

Her voice was weak and broken. 

“ What must I do. Aunt Martha ? ” 

“ Light the fire, little one ; you must warm yourself.” 

“ Shall I bring you your breakfast ? ” 

“Ho, not now, I am too tired.” 

The child quitted the room, silently, and Aunt Martha 
closed her eyes, in hopes of sleeping a Little ; but the 
weight which oppressed her, and which seemed to in- 
crease every moment, hindered all repose ; anguish 
seized her. Was she going to be ill ? Ho, it was not 
possible. She had not the time. But what did this 
pain mean, this feeling of heat and cold ? Why this pain 
in her side, this difficult respiration ? She was ill, there 
was no doubt of that ; all illusion was impossible, and 
yet, she could not believe it, the idea had never come to 
her that she, like so many others, could lie on a sick bed. 
It was for her dear one that she had always feared suf- 
fering and death, never for herself. She had never 
thought that her time would come ; her surprise was so 
great, so complete, that she could not believe it. She, 
ill ? She die ? But what woiild become of her child. 


60 


A HAPPY FIND. 


her child who had no one but her in the world. Who 
would care for her, love her, caress her ? 

No, it was not true ; she would not, she could not 
leave her yet : her heart, for the first time, revolted. She 
had been able to bow her head, and renounce her girl- 
hood’s hopes, she had been able to give up her dying in- 
fant and accept her lonely lot, had the sacrifice been 
required ; but to desert her post now, to leave in strange 
hands this delicate plant with its tender heart and its 
need of affection. Oh ! She could not, she would not ! 

Aunt Martha moaned and clasped her hands, but no 
peace came to her poor heart, no voice came to murmur 
consolation to her soul. 

“ Is it you, Aimee ? ” 

The door had opened gently. 

I cannot sleep,” murmured Aunt Martha. 

The child sat down on the foot of the bed, rested her 
head against the bedpost, and remained motionless. The 
hours passed away, and only the short, hard breathing of 
the sick woman broke the monotonous silence. Aimee 
had closed her eyes, those pretty eyes, yesterday all 
sparkling with happiness ; and, but for the slight trem- 
bling of her lips, one would have thought her asleep. 
Aunt Martha also remained quiet, but she was not asleep 
either ; her face turned away, her eyes wide open, her 
hands painfully clasped, she fought in her heart, the 
most painful, the most terrible of battles. When she 
moved, after a long time, she had conquered, she had 


AVNT MAUfHA^S SICKNESS. 61 

drunk the bitter cup clear to the dregs, and, as formerly, 
she could say, “ Thy will. Lord ; Thy will, only.’^ 

She wiped her damp brows, and called the child to 
her. 

‘‘ What have you been doing all this time, Aimee ? ” 
“I have been staying with you. Aunt Martha; have 
you slept ? ” 

“ No, my child,’’ and the sick woman gently passed 
her hand over the little face which bent forward to kiss 
her. 

“ Listen, Aimee,” she resumed, after an instant. I 
do not like you to be alone ; go after Aunt Eose, she will 
not refuse to spend the night with us ; go, my little girl.” 

Aim^e obeyed, and soon came back, followed by a 
little old woman, with a wide-awake, smiling face. 

“ Well, Martha,” said she, taking the hand which the 
sick woman held out to her, what is the matter ? What 
have you done to put yourself in such a state ? ” 

“I took cold, yesterday, in our large room; it is 
always a little damp there at this season. I sent for 
you. Aunt Eose, because I was worried about my little 
girl, who has already spent the night by my bedside.” 

“ Well, well, do not distress yourself. She shall sleep 
in her bed, to-night. What have you eaten, to-day ? ” 

“ Nothing ; I have no appetite.” 

“ Are you thirsty ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes.” 

What are you drinking ? ” 


62 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Water/’ 

“ But do you want to kill yourself ? You ought to 
have hot drinks. I will go and prepare one which will 
make you sleep.” 

Aunt Martha smiled wearily, and the little old woman 
left the room, soon to reappear with a cup of tea, which 
she gave to the invalid, then turned towards the child. 

^‘You must eat something,” said she; ‘^you are as 
white as the bed-curtains.” And, as Aimee did not 
answer, she took her hand, and led her to the kitchen. 

“ You must eat,” she repeated ; without that, you 
will not be able to nurse Aunt Martha.” 

This last argument was convincing. 

Now, it is the goats’ turn ; I will wager that you 
have forgotten them. What a housekeeper! Come, 
you are not yet able to get along alone. The good God 
will remember it.” And with that. Aunt Bose went out 
to repair the little girl’s numerous omissions. 

When she reentered the sick woman’s room, she an- 
swered the child’s warning gesture, with a smile of sat- 
isfaction. 

Well, well, she is sleeping ; it is a good sign,” said 
she, in a whisper ; my tea is worth all the doctors 
in the world; I hope we can do without any of them 
here. 

Now, I am going to prepare all that I need for to- 
night, and, as you have nothing more to do, I advise you 
to go to bed, for you look more dead than alive.” 


AUNT MAUTHA^S SICKNESS. 63 

“ But I have not said good-night to Aunt Martha.” 

^^That will not matter for once. Her sleep will do 
her more good than kisses.” 

With these words, the little old woman vanished, to 
come back much later, wdth a big pot of the marvellous 
tea. 

Aimee was sleeping already, a profound slumber, and 
the noise of her calm and regular respiration was mingled 
with the sick woman’s rapid and broken breathing. 


CHAPTER IX. 


NEW ARRANGEMENTS. 

Aunt Martha was better; that is to say, out of 
danger. Already she began to sit up, her cheeks to 
flush with the color of health, and her eyes to recover 
their gentle light. Strength returned, slowly it is true, 
but it returned, nevertheless. 

From her armchair, where she passed long hours. 
Aunt Martha watched her active little girl, who cam© 
and went under the direction of Aunt Rose. 

She had decided now, more than ever decided, to sepa- 
rate herself from her child, ; she wished while she 
could, to do for her all that seemed a duty. Aimee 
would learn thus to use her own wings. It would be 
good for her, good for both of them, and, while it still 
brought tears to her eyes, the thought had lost its thorn. 
Besides, she no longer had a choice, it was necessary to 
send Aimee to school, or deprive her of instruction, since 
her income, more than modest, would not permit her to 
accompany her ; but she knew, and that thought was her 
best consolation, that her child would be kept by that 
Almighty Friend into whose hands she daily committed 
her. ‘‘He will be for her what He has been for me, 
always, always faithful ; so thought Aunt Martha. 

64 


NEW AilRANGEMENTS. 65 

^^Aimee, when you have finished your work, come to 
me, we will talk/’ 

“ I have finished. Aunt Martha.” And without losing 
time, the young girl drew up a little footstool. 

There,” said she, seating herself, “ I shall do nicely 
here, but what a pity that you cannot take me on your 
lap, Aunt Martha ; I remember how delightful it was.” 

The invalid smiled, and caressed the pretty head 
pressed lovingly against her knee. 

Aimee, do you remember our project of going together 
to Arles ? ” 

^^Yes, Aunt Martha, but I know that you cannot 
afford it, and it is all the same to me.” 

It is true ; I could not go with you without selling 
the abbey, and I think it would be wrong to do that.” 

“ Certainly it would.” 

^^But, Aimee,” Aunt Martha’s voice trembled a little, 

I want you to go to school.” 

^‘Without you. Aunt Martha?” Two pleading eyes 
were lifted to hers. 

“ Without me, my darling, since it must be.” 

^^Oh! Aunt Martha, you promised me,” — and tears 
cut short the words. 

Aimee, listen to me ! Do not cry so; you hurt me. 
Aimee, you are old enough to understand me.” 

The sobs were checked, but the little girl’s face was 
still hidden in Aunt Martha’s lap. 

Aimee, do you not know that education is the best of 


66 


A MAPPY PlND, 


riches, — the only one really enviable ; if I listen to you 
to-day, and keep you at home with me, I am sure that one 
day you will regret it ; perhaps you will reproach me/’ 
The child did not answer. 

You know, my darling, the sacrifice is as great for 
me as for you,” pursued Aunt Martha, ‘^and that if I 
give you up, it is because I am sure that I am doing my 
duty. You have not much liking for household duties, 
less still for out-door work. The day will come, very 
soon, when you will not find so much pleasure in climb- 
ing trees, and running about with the goats. You will 
be glad then to have a higher interest along with your 
material duties.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

When I was of your age, I was very fond of every- 
thing about the house and garden, and yet I remember 
how I regretted leaving school ; but my mother’s death 
and my old father’s loneliness made it necessary. Often 
since then, I have wished for a better education, and to- 
day, more than ever, since it necessitates our separation.” 

Aunt Martha said no more, and a little cheek, all wet 
with tears, was pressed against hers. 

Aunt Martha, I do not believe I can live away from 
you.” 

Do not say that, my darling. Think of the happi- 
ness of meeting again; and then, time passes quickly 
when one is busy, and you will have plenty to do, much 
lost time to make up. Besides, I have no intention of 


NEW ARRANGEMENTS. 67 

parting with you for years, you will come home for the 
holidays.^’ 

‘‘But, Aunt Martha, you are still so weak, if you 
were to be sick again,” and the sobs began again. 

“Be calm, pussy, I will not send you away until I 
am quite well. I want first to go to Arles myself. 
I want to see everything with my own eyes before 
I take you.” 

Aunt Martha kept her word. As soon as she was 
strong enough, she hired a char* and set off, leaving the 
young girl in the care of Aunt Eose, who asked nothing 
better than to prolong her stay at the abbey. 

“ There is nothing like work to drive away the blues. 
Come, little one, we will shake the carpets and wash the 
curtains, that Aunt Martha may find everything fresh 
and nice when she comes back.” 

Aimee left the window from which she had watched 
the char, carrying away her adopted mother, and un- 
willingly obeyed the little old woman who tried to 
inculcate such excellent principles ; but her head ached, 
she would have preferred a good cry to the proposed 
work. 

“ See here, daughter, it is good to make one’s self use- 
ful. Tears do no good, except to make the eyes and 
nose red, — that is all.” 

* Char, a conveyance, somewhat like a wagon, used in France 
and Switzerland. 


68 


A HAPPY FIND. 


‘‘But then, why are they there, if they only do 
harm ? ’’ The old woman reflected a moment. 

“Perhaps to punish young girls for their vanity.’’ 
Aimee began to laugh. 

“No,” said she ; “Aunt Martha told me of a lady who 
became crazy after a great sorrow, because she could not 
cry.” 

“That is possible, but that only proves that I am 
right, and that one ought to keep tears for great 
troubles, which always come soon enough.” 

And while they talked, they dusted and brushed, put 
everything upside down, just for the pleasure of re- 
arranging everything as before. 

So passed three busy days, during which Aimee did 
not find a moment to allow herself the luxury of tears. 

And when the abbey had resumed its everyday ap- 
pearance, when all was shining with cleanliness, when 
fresh curtains had been hung in the windows, and great 
bouquets filled the vases on tables and mantels, then 
Aunt Bose looked around, satisfied. 

“ Well,” said she, “ have we not done good Avork ? 
don’t you think Aunt Martha will be better pleased 
than if we had spent these three days crying? See 
here, little one, when you care for people, ask yourself, 
first of all, what will please them ; that is the best way 
to make yourself useful, and spare your tears for your 
old age.” 

But Aunt Rose’s eloquence was lost. Aimee had 


NEW ARUANGEMENTS. 


69 


heard the noise of wheels, and had flown away, leaving 
the little old woman to finish alone, which gave her 
almost the same pleasure. 

Some minutes later, Aunt Martha entered her home, 
a little pale and tired, but looking happy. 

will tell you all about it later,” said she to the 
child, who clung to her, and would not let her go. 
^^Kow I want some of Aunt Rose’s coffee, I am as 
hungry as a wolf.” 

Those were happy days which followed Aunt Martha’s 
return, and yet many tears were mingled with their 
smiles and caresses. 

Was not the moment just at hand when they could no 
longer talk together, nor show their love for each other ? 
There was much to do ; also, much to think about, to 
sew, to prepare. 

Aunt Martha had recovered all her former activity, 
and with it, her serene gayety. She it was who en- 
couraged the young girl, consoled her in her sad mo- 
ments, and spoke to her of the Heavenly Friend who 
would keep them both, and bring them together again ; — 
she it was, who, without a thought of pain or fatigue, 
found bright words, made a thousand plans for the 
home-comings, and finally persuaded herself that the 
grief of parting would be less, after all, than the joy of 
the return. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. 

Aunt Martha had faithfully, valiantly, accomplished 
her task to the very end. 

The child was at school, she had conducted her there 
herself ; she had seen her in the midst of her comrades 
and playmates ; she had aided her in preparing her 
school dress; had placed her wardrobe in its bureau, 
the wardrobe prepared so lovingly ; she had given her 
a Bible, as formerly she had given one to Roland, 
charging her to read it every day ; then she had given 
her her last kiss, her last caress, and had returned alone, 
her heart empty, but happy in having done her duty. 

And now Aunt Martha was again in the old abbey, 
where the light step of the young girl was no longer 
heard, where her fresh voice no longer woke the echoes 
in the old corridors. No little hand now came to slip 
itself into hers, no smiling mouth held itself up to give 
or receive a kiss. 

Aunt Martha felt all this, and yet she was happy. 
The days, it is true, seemed long to her ; but neverthe- 
less, they rolled away, and each of them in its flight 
brought the holidays, the home-coming, nearer. 

Faithful to her old habits, she went out but little, and 
70 


THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. 


71 


made no visits ; but, in spite of that, many came to see 
her, and were always made welcome. Aunt Kose had 
become a frequent visitor at the old abbey, and came 
often to spend the evening. 

This Martha,’’ she thought, always knows how to 
talk without speaking ill of her neighbors. That is why 
it is so good to be with her.” And that was why she 
and many others found themselves so often at the old 
homestead. 

To depart content with one’s self and every one else, 
is not exactly the usual impression after a visit ; but it 
was always the agreeable reflection one carried away 
after a visit to Aunt Martha. 

So the days and weeks passed ; the autumn had gone, 
winter had taken its place ; the sky was not so cloud- 
less, but in the heart of the lonely woman the sun still 
shone. 

Christmas was drawing near; Christmas would give 
her back her child, — that child of whom she rightly felt 
herself the mother, — that child whose progress rejoiced 
her from week to week. She would see her again, spend 
a fortnight with her, a fortnight which it seemed to her 
would never end. What a reward after such a hard sepa- 
ration! Would she be changed, — prettier, taller ? At 
that age, eight months sometimes transforms a young 
girl ; and soon, in a few years, she would be her daily 
companion, her adviser, her friend. Did she not see 
already how she developed in her letters ? Even now, 


72 


A HAPPY FIND, 


there was no longer the childish nonsense, reflection 
came little by little; intelligence, mind, and heart, all 
were ripening. And Aunt Martha’s tearful eyes were 
raised heavenwards, seeking beyond the clouds the 
presence of the One who had given her such a pre- 
cious gift. 

Do you not hear wheels. Aunt Eose ? ” 

The little old woman raised her head from her knit- 
ting, and listened. 

No, I hear nothing ; but that is not saying much.” 

It is already night, I hope she will not be cold ; I am 
sorry I did not go after her myself.” 

“ To go to bed when you got back ! a nice holiday you 
would have given her ! ” 

For all answer Aunt Martha put her finger to her lips, 
then, rising quickly, hurried to the door. 

“ Take a shawl, Martha,” cried Aunt Eose ; “you will 
catch your death.” 

But Aunt Martha heard nothing more ; she had crossed 
her little garden, and had just time enough to open the 
gate before she clasped in her arms her child, no longer 
a child ; but a young girl, really, as tall as herself, and 
whom she kissed without being obliged to bend her head. 

The little old woman had followed to get the baggage, 
and had taken refuge in the kitchen. 

“ I must look at you,” said Aunt Martha, raising the 
lamp-shade ; “ how you have grown, Aimee ! ” And her 


TUE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. 


73 


radiant look rested tenderly upon the rather pale face, 
which met the examination without the least embarrass- 
ment. It was the same white, pure brow ; the same 
abundant brown hair, the sunny reflection of which she 
had so often admired ; the same eyes, full of light and 
shade, according to the long lashes which rose and fell ; 
only the mouth had changed somewhat, and did not 
seem so ready to smile. 

Your cheeks are a little thin,’’ said Aunt Martha, at 
last, caressing them gently. “You have been working 
too hard, pussy ; you must rest.” 

“That is nothing, Aunt Martha, I am so, so glad to be 
at home again ; I wish I could stay here always.” 

“And your studies, your music, and your compan- 
ions ? ” 

Aimee did not answer. 

Aunt Martha clasped her in her arms again. 

“Now, come to supper,” said she; “Aunt Eose has 
already come twice to the door.” 

“ Is she still staying at the abbey ? ” 

“ No ; but it is the same thing ; she comes to see me 
every day. Without her the time would have seemed 
much longer.” 

“ You ought to ask her to take her little room again. 
Aunt Martha ; I am sure that she would ask no better 
than to give up that frightful hut.” 

“ I have already thought of that ; but it is a decision 
one cannot make impulsively.” 


74 


A UAPPY FIND. 


The supper passed gayly, and was prolonged far into 
the night. They had so many things to tell each other 
that the hours slipped away unperceived. Is it not 
always so in moments of happiness ? 

The old clock, slowly striking its twelve deep-toned 
strokes recalled Aunt Martha to her senses. 

Midnight ! it is not possible ! At my age to be 
guilty of such folly, it is unpardonable. But it is for 
once ; to-morrow we will be wiser, will we not, Aim^e ? ” 

A long and tender kiss, which left the lonely woman 
moved and dreamy, was the young girl’s only answer. ‘ 

She is the same,” thought Aunt Martha, some days 
later. Always the same, and yet there is a difference ; 
but what ? ” And that was what she had not been able 
to discover. ^^Her city life has done her no harm; she 
has not become vain nor proud, and she has lost none of 
that ease which made every one love her. Thank God ! 
I have not given her that awkwardness and coldness by 
which I always kept people at a distance. She is doubt- 
less tired; perhaps she has worked too hard. — But, 
no, it is not that ; it must be something else which gives 
her pretty mouth a bitter expression, and darkens her 
beautiful eyes. She must have something which pains 
her, but what ? ” 

Aunt Martha was puzzled. It was necessary to have 
patience, the confidence would certainly come; and, 
meantime, she clasped her hands, and left with God her 


THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. 


75 


child, the subject of her preoccupations. One afternoon, 
when she was absorbed in her thoughts, the young girl’s 
quick, light step came to interrupt them unceremo- 
niously. 

“Back already, Aimee ? You have not made many 
visits.” 

“ 0 Aunt Martha, how naughty that is ! Formerly 
you found the time so long when I was away, I was 
sure that you wanted me. Now, I am well punished for 
my presumption.” 

Aunt Martha smiled. 

“ You ought to go out every day, Aimee ; it gives you 
such a pretty color.” 

“Go out!” The young girl began to laugh, and 
seated herself on the arm of Aunt Martha’s chair. 
“ We went out every day at Arles ; we took long walks, 
two and two, always keeping step, without looking right 
or left. We went out every day, no matter what the 
weather was, always at the same hour ; just to regulate 
or establish the circulation of the blood, Madam Eobert 
said.” 

“You do not seem to appreciate that reason, which 
I find very good, nevertheless.” 

“ What a pity that what is good is generally so tire- 
some.” 

Aunt Martha took the young girl’s hand and caressed it. 

“ Are you discontented, Aimee ? I thought you were 
reconciled to boarding-school life.” 


76 


A )IAPPY FIND. 


That depends on what you mean, Aunt Martha. I 
like Madam Eobert, and nearly all my lessons.” 

Which ones do you dislike ? ” 

^^Mathematics, to begin with; they are my horror. 
Sometimes I think that I have understood, but the 
lesson after, I have to begin again.” 

That is my fault,” said Aunt Martha, laughing. I 
have given you my antipathy without knowing it. 
What other lesson do you dislike ? ” 

“I don’t remember just now.” 

And the languages ? ” 

Aimee laughed gayly. 

^‘Oh, Aunt Martha, I am always in a fog with my 
German. I shall never learn to speak it. I may as 
well give it up. I believe there is a natural aversion to 
some languages, as well as to some people.” 

'^And English?” 

*^Ah! there is a practical language; one article for 
the two genders, no plural for the adjectives, several 
suppressed tenses. There is only one difficulty, — that 
is the pronunciation ; but when once I have learned to 
twist my mouth sufficiently, that will go of itself.” 

Is that the study you prefer ? ” 

No ; I like history and literature better.” 

Are your companions more advanced than you ? ” 
Some of them.” 

Are they nice ? Have you any favorites ? ” 

I do not like any of them,” 


THE CURISTMAS IIOLtDArs. 


77 


Why, my darling ? 

And Aunt Martha looked uneasily upon the young 
face, suddenly become crimson, and which turned itself 
away to hide its blushes. 

You cannot be happy with such feelings. Do you 
not know that they offend God ? 

“Yes, I know it; but I cannot help it. Oh, Aunt 
Martha, let us talk of something else ! 

Aunt Martha did not answer, and Aimee remained 
silent, her head leaning on her aunt’s shoulder. 

“ Does your head ache, Aimee ? That is the second 
time you have put your hand to your forehead.” • 

“A little ; it happens sometimes.” 

“Well, let us go and prepare supper. I am sure you 
are hungry. At your age, headaches are often caused 
by that.” 

And they both moved towards the kitchen. 

“You have hardly eaten anything,” said Aunt Martha, 
when the meal was nearly ended; “perhaps you will 
do well to go to bed.” 

“But I want to help you with the dishes.” 

“No, not this evening; go to bed, pussy. Your eyes 
are already half shut. I will come soon.” 

Aimee obeyed, and Aunt Martha remained alone, her 
heart a little heavy. Then when she had finished her 
work, she went noiselessly to the bedroom, where all 
was dark and quiet. 

“ That is nothing,” said she, closing the door gently ; 


78 


A UAPPy FIND. 


^^some jealousy or quarrel. It often happens to young 
girls. They have pained her in some way ; Aimee will 
certainly tell me about it one of these days.” And, 
happy in that thought, Aunt Martha took her book and 
knitting. 

The hands of the great clock indicated ten o’clock 
when she decided to seek her couch. She blew out her 
candle, and opened the door carefully. 

All was quiet in the little room ; the soft moonlight 
penetrated the shutters, and its silver rays fell upon the 
floor, and upon the little white bed where the young girl 
lay... 

Aunt Martha approached on tiptoe and bent to listen 
to her breathing. 

Aimee, my darling, you are not asleep ; you are cry- 

0 

ing ? What is it my child, tell me ? ” 

Two arms clasped her neck. 

Oh ! Aunt Martha, Aunt Martha, is it wrong to be a 
foundling ? ” 

Aunt Martha started. 

“Wrong!” murmured she; “who has put such an 
idea into your head ? ” 

Aim^e sat up, pushed back her hair, and remained 
motionless, her eyes intent, her hands clasped. -- 

“You do not answer me, darling ? ” 

“Aunti Martha, why am I a foundling ? ” 

“I do not know. Is it that which makes you un- 
happy, Aim4e ? ” 


THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS, 


70 


Oh ! yes ; oh ! yes ; formerly I never thought of it ; 
now I think of it always ; often in the night it hinders 
me from sleeping/’ 

What has happened, my child, tell me all.” 

‘‘How could I know ? you never told me to hide it. 
Aunt Martha, and I have told it, and now I know ” — 

“ What do you know, Aimee ? ” 

The poor child hid her face in her hands. 

“I know that — I have no mother, no family, no 
name.” 

Aunt Martha pressed her hand to her heart, and bent 
her forehead upon the edge of the bed. 

“ Who told you that, Aimee ? ” 

“I heard it; they were speaking of it among them- 
selves, and I understood it. When one has no family 
and no name, one is not like others. Oh ! Aunt Martha, 
I am so sad ; I do not understand ; does a mother desert 
her child because she does not love it ? ” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Aimde,” said Aunt Martha, at last, “I am as igno- 
rant as you upon all which concerns you, but I have 
always thought that if your mother had lived, I should 
never have known you. Will you not try to be happy 
in spite of all, my darling, and to love me a little 
still?” 

Aunt Martha’s voice broke in a sob. 

“Do not say such things, Aunt Martha, I did not 
want to tell you for fear of grieving you ; 1 am happy 


80 


A HAPPY FIND, 


with you. I could not have loved a true mother more 
than I love you. Aunt Martha, do not cry so ; I am 
glad to be your child, after all ; it is the same thing for 
me if I do not know my name, and when I come back, 
we will never think of it any more, never.” 

“I ought to have thought of it,” murmured Aunt 
Martha, caressing the little head which leaned against 
her. “ I ought to have warned you that there are people 
in the world who only esteem you by your birth, and 
the name you bear; but I never believed, I never 
thought that young girls, almost children” — 

“No, Aunt Martha, it is nothing. We will not talk 
of it any more.” 

“ Let me speak, little one ; there was a time when the 
thou^t that you might be unhappy alarmed me, and 
now, God knows that if I could, I would spare you any 
grief, no matter what I suffered ; but I have learned that 
it is best to let God do as He will ; and I can say to 
him now for you, as well as for myself, ‘ Thy will^ be 
done.^ Will you not try to say it also, Aimee ? Ke- 
member that He is your best friend. I should be so 
happy if I knew that you had taken Him for your guide 
and helper.” 

“ I will try. Aunt Martha.” 

“ And now, go to sleep. Good-night, my darling.” 

“ Good-night, Aunt Martha.” 

But instead of letting her go, she kept her hand in 
her’s, and drew her face down to say, — 


THE CHBISTMAfi HOLIDAYS. 


81 


Aunt Martha, I will not be sad any more, I will not 
regret anything-, for if it were otherwise I should not be 
your child.’^ 

Aunt Martha answered these words with a kiss, and 
went to her bed, where she long lay awake, lost in 
thought. 


CHAPTER XI. 


DEATH OF AUNT MARTHA. 

The holidays had passed; the bird had taken its 
flight, and Aunt Martha, by her lonely hearth, followed 
it with her prayers, and committed it to the care of the 
All-Powerful. 

She was no longer ignorant of what had pained her 
child ; she had seen her tears, she had heard her bitter 
complaint against the world’s injustice and cruelty, and, 
more than once, she had been upon the point of siding 
with the young girl ; but she had been sustained by that 
faithful hand which had always guided her steps, and 
which would certainly lead her even to the end. 

Thus with a tranquil heart, and a look heavenward, 
she had opened her arms to let her bird escape once 
more. And the winter had passed, the spring had come 
again, already the orchard trees had laid aside their 
white robes to array themselves in their summer green, 
the insects sang in the new grass, the flies buzzed in the 
sunshine ; everywhere joyous sounds and the fluttering 
of wings responded to nature’s awakening. 

But at Arles, in Madam Robert’s great schoolroom, no 
one would have known of the arrival of the springtime. 

82 


DEATH OF AUNT MARTHA. 


83 


The sun, it is true, darted its warm beams everywhere, 
but the closed shutters prevented their indiscreet 
entrance. 

Seated around a great table, all stained with ink-blots, 
a dozen young girls seemed plunged in a calculation of 
the greatest importance. They never raised their heads, 
and their eyes were never lifted higher than the level of 
their inkstands, into which they frequently plunged 
their pens, in order to return to their copy-books which 
they covered with figures. 

All their lips moved, but no sounds came forth. The 
professor, his back to the blackboard which he had 
covered with demonstrations, waited patiently the result 
of his labors, never thinking that his best coat suffered 
considerably from the aforesaid contact. Little by little, 
the pens stopped, and the eyes, so long lowered, were 
raised with a sigh of relief. 

You are not yet ready. Miss Valrose ? 

A graceful head, covered with rather disorderly locks, 
was raised at this question. 

“ Kot yet, sir.” 

Pass me your copy-book.” 

It made the tour of the table slowly, and arrived at 
last at the professor. 

“There, always the same thing. You have not under- 
stood the problem from the veiy beginning. Come to 
the board, and we will do it together.” 

The young girl obeyed. 


84 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Let us see ; ” said the professor, with what shall 
we begin ? ’’ 

At the beginning, sir, if you please.” 

All the pupils burst out laughing. 

Silence, young ladies, or I will give you tasks. See,” 
he added, turning to the board, the first of our opera- 
tions consists in — Silence, young ladies, there is 
nothing to laugh at.” 

But he was mistaken ; the white back of a coat sup- 
posed to be black is more than sufficient to upset a class 
of mischievous schoolgirls. 

Arithmetic,” resumed the professor, is a science for 
which we have a disposition, more or less, from our very 
birth, but experience shows us tliat it is difficult to 
acquire. Miss Valrose, I told you that the first of our 
operations was ” — 

The door opened, and a pale and weary face appeared. 

Aimee.” 

The young girl turned, and without further ceremony 
fiung down the chalk which she held, and ran towards 
the new comer. 

^^My child,” said the lady, shutting the door, ‘^Mr. 
Arnauld is here. I have had him shown into my room, 
where he is waiting for you.” 

Aimee would have sprung away, but the lady detained 
her gently. 

I believe,” said she, that he has some news of Miss 
Valrose. She is not very well, but ” — 


DEATH OF AUNT MARTHA. 85 

Aimee did not stop to listen, and the lady was still 
speaking when the door of the room opened and shut 
quickly. 

At the noise made by the young girl’s entrance, Mr. 
Arnauld turned and came to meet her, but with so grave 
a look that, instead of advancing, she stood motionless 
upon the threshold. 

Monsieur Arnauld, Aunt Martha ” — 

The pastor took the young girl’s hand. 

“ Aunt Martha is sick,” said he, and desires to see 
you. Madam Robert will allow you to leave at once. I 
will come after you.” 

The poor child’s pale lips moved. 

I have just learned it through this telegram.” 

Aimee pressed her hand to her forehead, breathing with 
an effort, and trying vainly to speak. 

“Do not alarm yourself beyond measure,” continued 
Mr. Arnauld, “ Aunt Martha is alone ; it is very natu- 
ral that she should have begged the doctor to send for 
you to nurse her.” 

“ Aunt Rose lives with her,” murmured Aimee. “ Oh ! 
Aunt Martha ! ” and her delicate hands were clasped in 
a passion of pain and anguish. 

At this instant, the door opened, and Madam Robert 
entered. 

“My poor child, my poor dear little girl,” she mur- 
mured, embracing and bathing with tears the icy little 
face, which looked at her uncomprehendingly. “ I have 


86 


A UAPPY FIND. 


just prepared your valise. Come, my child, you must 
change your dress.’’ 

Aimee allowed herself to be led away, and, some 
moments later, she was seated at Mr. Arnauld’s side in 
the little carriage which had so gayly carried her away 
a few months before. 

Courage, my child,” said Madam Eobert, ‘^perhaps 
things will not be as bad as you think. Mr. Arnauld, 
you will see that she does not catch cold ; it is so easy 
to do so in a carriage at night.” 

The pastor bowed. 

Adieu, Aimee ; adieu, my child.” 

A look answered her, — what a look ! The good little 
lady buried her face in her handkerchief, and the carriage 
disappeared. 

The journey was made in silence ; the night came, the 
pastor, faithful to his promise, put a shawl around her, 
and advised her to sleep. 

It was late when the carriage stopped at the abbey 
door with two tired and stiff travellers. A little old 
woman appeared on the threshold, lantern in hand. 

Aimee sprang from the carriage, and moved towards 
her. 

Aunt Eose, how is she ? ” 

Good heavens, how you look ! One would think you 
were a ghost. Come in, quickly.” 

Aimee did not speak. 

<^She expects you,” continued the little old woman. 


DEATH, OF AUNT MARTHA. 


87 


addressing the travellers ; it has seemed a long time to 
wait,” she added, looking towards Aimee, who leaned 
against the door, and tried vainly to control the trem- 
bling which shook her from head to foot. | 

You had better sit down. Miss Aimee ; you do not 
look as if you could stand.” 

What does the doctor say ? ” interrupted Mr. 
Arnauld. 

Nothing at all, but he has left some medicine.” 

How long has she been sick ? ” 

Only three days ; she took cold in working in the 
garden. You know, Martha always thought she could 
work as before. She ought to have remembered her last 
year’s illness ; but no, she wanted the garden to be bright 
for Miss Ainiee’s return, and, at her age, that was 
unreasonable.” 

The young girl had covered her face with her hands. 

Does she suffer much ? ” continued the pastor. 

A little, from oppression, though she does not cough ; 
but after every attack, she becomes weaker. Now, you 
will come in, will you not ? ” And she preceded the 
travellers into Aunt Martha’s room. 

Aimee went in first upon tiptoes, approached the bed, 
and bent over a face, white as the pillow upon which it 
rested. 

“ I expected you,” murmured Aunt Martha, I knew 
that I should see you again. You have come also,” said 
she, perceiving the pastor, you are too good, thank you ! ” 


88 


A HAPPY FIND. 


^^How are you, Martha? I hope you will be better 
soon/’ 

Aunt Martha smiled, a beautiful smile that lit up her 
pale face. 

Yes,” said she, “ I shall be better, up there. Do not 
cry, Aimee, that hurts me. Sit down near me, and give 
me your hand. I had so many things to tell you, to tell 
you both, but I have no more strength.” 

At the end of a moment Aunt Kose entered. 

<‘Your supper is ready, come,” said she, turning 
towards the young girl; ^^you must eat something.” 

Aim^e shook her head. 

I cannot ; leave me.” And Aunt Eose was forced to 
retire, followed by but one of the travellers. 

“ Aimee,” murmured the sick woman. 

A caress was the only answer. 

I should have wished to stay a little longer on your 
account, my darling, but I will not murmur; I know 
that my Friend, my Heavenly Friend will keep you. 
We shall meet again soon. The years pass so quickly. 
Aimee, you have been my best joy on earth. When you 
are sad, think of that ; say to yourself : < without me. 
Aunt Martha would have lived and died all alone.’ Are 
you not glad to have been my consolation, my happi- 
ness ? ” 

Oh ! Aunt Martha, what shall I do without you ? ” 

“ Do not say that, you will see how good He is. You 
will see, now that you need Him, how He will aid you. 


DEATH OF AUNT MARTHA. 89 

how He will console you. I know that he will guide 
you, that he will grant my prayers, all my prayers.” 

At this moment, the door opened and the pastor 
entered. Aunt Martha turned towards him her beautiful 
eyes, now somewhat dimmed. 

“ I confide her to you ; you will love her a little, she 
will have only your wife and yourself — tell her for me 
to caress her sometimes” — 

Dear Martha, you can depend upon us.” 

My will is written, and placed in my bureau drawer ” 
Martha,” said the pastor, after a moment of silence, 
‘‘if you have any doubt, any fear, I will help you 
willingl3^” 

The sick woman closed her eyes and clasped her hands. 

“ All is light,” murmured she, “ all is peace and joy, 
and — confidence.” 

“Have you no fear of the coming judgment ? ” 

Aunt Martha turned a bright face towards the pastor. 

“ The judgment ! ” repeated she, “ Oh ! no, no fear. 
‘Come, ye blessed of my Father,^ — is that a fearful 
judgment ? ” 

The pastor was silent. 

Hours passed. From time to time Aunt Martha 
opened her eyes, fixed them upon the child kneeling 
near her, and closed them, murmuring words of tender- 
ness and peace. 

It was daybreak when the face of the sick one 
became convulsed with an expression of intense pain j 


90 


A HAPPY FIND. 


she raised herself quickly, held out her hands, and 
moved them convulsively. 

It is an attack,” said Aunt Kose in a whisper, ad- 
vancing to sustain her. ^^Open the windows. There, 
there, Martha, you are better.” 

But the sick woman struggled vainly for breath, her 
eyes seemed starting from their sockets, and her blue 
lips were frightfully contracted. All at once, her head 
fell upon Aunt Eose’s shoulder, her arms remained inert 
at her sides, and she lay motionless. 

It is over,” murmured the sick woman. 

Aunt Martha tried to smile and reach out for the hand 
that she had let go. 

^^Are you better, Martha,” asked the pastor, approach- 
ing. 

The sick woman did not answer. 

There he is,” cried she, and her eyes, wide open, 
saw already the wonders of the infinite. I am going 
— Aimee, you will come, too.” 

A passionate cry which Aunt Martha never heard 
answered these words. 

The little old woman bent over the young girl. 

Courage, my child. Mr. Arnauld, will you help me 
to carry her to bed, I think she is too weak to walk. 
There, poor lamb, that is always a moment of respite, 
it is almost hard to call her back to life just to 
suffer.” 

While speaking Aunt Eose rubbed the young girl’s 


DEATH OF AUNT MARTHA. 91 

hands and temples vigorously. Aimee opened her eyes, 
looked around her, and turned away her head. 

She will sleep now,’’ said Aunt Kose, it is the best 
thing that she can do ; and she gently quitted the room, 
followed by the pastor. 

As soon as she was alone, Aimee left her bed, and 
tremblingly went towards that of Aunt Martha. She 
knelt near her, and contemplated long that gentle, calm 
face over which so many storms, so many trials, so many 
sufferings, had passed, but where only one thing remained 
now, the perfect peace which God gives to his pardoned 
ones. 

‘^Aunt Martha,” said she, at last, ‘‘Aunt Martha, take 
me with you. I cannot live all alone.” She took 
tenderly the hand which was growing chill, and pressed 
her cheek to the cold cheek on the pillow. “Aunt 
Martha, I am your child, only yours ; do not leave me 
alone. I only love you. Aunt Martha.” 

“ Oh ! Aunt Martha ” — a sob rose with the name — 
“ my name is not true any more ; it never will be true.” 

And in her despair, the poor child flung herself down, 
and gave way 'to a passion of grief. 

“There, there, how perfectly unreasonable you are,” 
said Aunt Kose, half opening the door ; “ I thought that 
you were asleep, you have given me a fine fright ; come 
to the kitchen, I have prepared something for you to 
drink.” 

Aimee began a refusal. 


92 


A HAPPY FIND. 


‘‘If Aunt Martha saw you, she would be greatly 
grieved.” 

“ I wish that I could die.” 

“We must live before we can die ; when you are good 
and holy like Aunt Martha, it will be time to go.” 

“ I wish I could die now ; I cannot live without Aunt 
Martha.” 

“Hush! if she heard you, how sorry she would be. 
Come and warm yourself; you are half frozen. Aunt 
Martha would be so uneasy if she knew it.” 

Aimee rose and followed Aunt Eose to the kitchen. 
She allowed herself to be placed near the fire, drank 
what they gave her, and remained silent, her face 
hidden in her hands. 

The next day Mr. Arnauld called her to him. He 
was seated at Aunt Martha’s desk, reading a paper. 

“ It is her will,” said he, “ and here is what I found 
afterwards. ” 

Aimee held out her hand to receive a little package, 
carefully wrapped, and containing the chemise which 
she wore when Eoland had found her, also the paper 
upon which was written that simple prayer which Aunt 
Martha had answered with all the love and tenderness 
of her heart. 

The poor child’s eyes filled with tears, but she tried 
to remain calm. 

“ Aunt Martha,” continued Mr. Arnauld, “ leaves you 
all that she had ; the abbey i-s yours, as well as her little 


DEATH OF AUNT MAUTBA. 


93 


fortune, which, as you know already, is most modest; 
she begs me to continue to look after it, as during the 
past, and to watch over you as a guardian. We will 
leave in a few days ; you to return to Mme. Eobert ; I, 
to resume my work.’’ 

And Aunt Eose ? ” 

She will take care of the abbey until you are of age ; 
such was Aunt Martha’s desire. Later, in a few years, 
you can arrange with her, send her away or keep her 
with you, as you please.” 

Aimee rose to go. 

Wait, I have something to tell you. You know that ' 
a guardian has not only the charge of his ward’s posses- 
sions, but that he ought to watch over her character, aid 
her with his advice, and even correct her when he sees 
best ; in a word, that it is his duty to replace the father 
and mother.” 

Aimee looked closely at the grave and cold face of 
him who would replace her adopted mother, and a bitter 
pain filled her heart. 

hope,” continued Mr. Arnauld, ‘^that you will 
always feel that I am acting for your good, and in order 
to accomplish my duty faithfully.” 

He held out his hand, in which the young girl placed 
the tips of her fingers ; then she went out precipitately 
to return near the one who could no more dry her tears, 
or soften her pain, or calm, by word or look, the pas- 
sionate sorrow of her soul. 


94 


A UAPPY FINP. 


A week had rolled away. A little mound, where no 
grass as yet grew, some dried flowers, and half-faded 
wreaths, marked the place where Aunt Martha slept. 

At the abbey, in the old home she had left, all was 
silent. Aunt Rose, always active, came and went noise- 
lessly; in the rooms occupied only yesterday, dusted, 
took down curtains, covered the furniture, then closed 
the blinds, keeping for her own use the little kitchen, 
and the adjoining room, where she had passed so many 
happy hours, and where Aunt Martha’s shadow still 
seemed to move. 

Aimee was gone, without having seen the garden, 
without having visited the stable or poultry-house. 
Alone, in Aunt Martha’s room, kneeling by her bed, 
her head buried in the bedclothes, she had waited until 
they came after her to join Mr. Arnauld, to take her 
place at his side in the little carriage which would con- 
duct her back to school. 

Far from opposing any resistance, her tears were 
dried; she had made only a last gesture of adieu to 
Aunt Rose, who, standing in the doorway, silently 
waved her handkerchief, and all had disappeared, — 
the little old woman, the abbey with its yellow blinds, 
the garden, the orchard, — only one thing was left, the 
loneliness of one who had lost all, all which made life 
good, easy, and happy. 


CHAPTER XII. 


SORROWING. 

Aim^e had resumed her place in the study-rooms, 
Nothing was changed, and except for the austere sim- 
plicity of her black dress, no one would have remem- 
bered her short absence. Neither would any one have 
suspected the frightful loneliness in her heart ; diligent 
in her duties, always ready to work, no one would have 
thought that her nights were often sleepless, that her 
sorrow kept her eyes from closing. 

There are in the world two sorts of people ; those who - 
support grief, and those who cannot. During the first 
moments, both pay the common tribute of tears and 
desolation. But reason aids, sometimes, also the neces- 
sity for work, the instability or natural egotism of the 
human heart; and these are the first, not healed, but 
capable of supporting the battle of life : as for the 
others, they go and come during the day, take up their 
occupations, but their bitter sorrow never abandons 
them for an instant ; then, instead of finding forgetful- 
ness during the hours of the night, they improve that 
time to nourish their sorrow, to accuse themselves of 
faults often imaginary, to call back sweet and bitter 

memories ; in a word, to give way to regrets until suf- 
95 


96 


A HAPPY FINP. 


fering alters their reason, or obliges them to lift their 
hands heavenward, and cry for mercy. 

That was what Aimee did, and the burden, too heavy 
for her weak shoulders, was lightened. Little by little, 
calm came into her soul, she began to tread the same 
path which Aunt Martha had so bravely followed. But 
she was still far from being like her adopted mother ! 
What wrong thoughts in her heart, what desires for 
vengeance, what bitterness that she never thought of 
repressing until it was too late, and all that remained 
for her was to acknowledge another defeat. 

Mr. Arnauld, faithful to his duty, came frequently to 
visit his ward, and perceived with great satisfaction, 
that she was no longer the gay and joyous child of 
former days ; it was no longer necessary to call her to 
order, or to put her in her place, her young face had 
really lost that air of careless happiness which had so 
often shocked him. But a shade came to mingle with 
his joy. As the years passed, a singular transformation 
showed itself in the young girl ; it was an evil for which 
he knew no remedy, and for which he Avas almost ready 
to blame nature itself, nay, even to think an error of 
Providence. What ! his ward, the orphan destined to 
go through life humble and unperceived, seemed to wish 
to rival her companions in grace and freshness. 

In vain the faithful guardian scrutinized her toilette, 
and her deportment; he was obliged to recognize that 
her dress Avas as simple as he could desire, even simpler 


SORROWING, 


97 


than that of his wife, though it gave her no such charm ; 
and, strangest of all, Aimee never seemed to know that 
her complexion was a pearly white, uncommon enough ; 
her nose perfect ; her teeth dazzling ; and her eyes with 
their long lashes, of a rare beauty. Only her mouth for 
a long time had no smiles, but a somewhat grave ex- 
pression, which kept at a distance the gay girls in the 
midst of whom her life passed. 

The good guardian sighed in thinking of the tempta- 
tions, the difficulties of all sorts which the poor child 
was sure to encounter before she had reached an age 
when the heart has no more aspirations, when it knows 
no more illusions, when it only desires one thing — rest. 

Mine. Kobert also accomplished in her way the duty 
which she had laid on herself towards the orphan ; but, 
for a long time, she had received in return for her dem- 
onstration of affection, only a vague and sorrowful smile. 
Nevertheless, little by little, confidence came, then a 
real friendship was established between the pupil and 
her teacher. And, as those who love sincerely are not 
slow to show it, Aimee became soon her companion, her 
indefatigable aid, seconding her with all her power, 
sharing her cares, her fatigue, sparing her as much as 
she could the thousand annoyances of a boarding-school 
life. 

It was thus that four years rolled away, four years of 
activity and labor, during which Aimee had valiantly 


98 


A HAPPY FIND. 


trod the narrow path — though stony and often bordered 
with thorns, from which the child of God cannot wan- 
der, where his feet are often wounded, his hands torn ; 
where he falls sometimes, fatigued and discouraged, but 
where he is never alone ; where, after each wound, he 
feels a compassionate Hand lift and soothe him ; where 
he hears, after each fit of discouragement, a tender, and 
mysterious voice murmuring words of divine comfort. 

And so the road continues, and, strangest of all, as 
one climbs higher, it becomes smoother, and easier. As 
for Aim4e, her path had not yet lost the stones or ruts ; 
but, notwithstanding all, she advanced bravely, strug- 
gling to conquer her faults, even fighting the impet- 
uosity of her character, and never uttering a complaint 
except to Him who pities our faintest sighs. 

Her joyous and expansive nature had been for a long 
time somewhat changed ; the wound given formerly in 
her childish days kept her instinctively away from the 
noisy life around her. She lived thus, somewhat soli- 
tary, from day to day, with only one desire, — to relieve 
from all pain the friend whom she daily saw sinking 
under the weight of sickness and lassitude. 

At last, there came a day, when Mme. Eobert was 
forced to admit it, and recognize that she was at the 
end of her forces, that her task was finished, and that 
rest was needed. 

She could no longer hesitate, it was necessary to say 
adieu to all her old habits of work, to all the young girls 


SORROWING. 


99 


she had so learned to love ; it was necessary to leave, 
and it wrung her heart to do it, the orphan whom she 
had taught to love her, and who would, henceforth, find 
life doubly lonely. 

One evening, when she was plunged in these sad 
thoughts, the door opened gently. 

“ Madame, you sent for me ? ’’ 

Yes, my child.’’ 

The door closed again, and Aimee approached the arm- 
chair where the invalid sat. 

Must I bring a lamp ? The darkness is so gloomy ? ” 
It is not necessary. Sit down near me. Aimee, I 
have had a visit from the doctor ! ” 

‘‘ I know it ; does he think you worse ? ” 

In saying these words, the poor child’s anxious look 
sought to pierce the obscurity, and read her answer upon 
the pale face which she could hardly see. 

^^No, not exactly, but he says I must give up all 
occupation, and leave town as soon as possible.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

I have a sister,” resumed the invalid, who lives in 
Switzerland; I shall live with her. She has begged me 
to come, long ago, but I could not decide ” — she checked 
herself. 

Aimee, why do you not say anything ? ” 

I do not know, I thought ” — 

What did you think ? ” 

That I would like to go with you. Oh ! dear 


100 


A HAPPY FIND. 


madame, take me with you. I would nurse you so 
well.’’ 

The lady gently patted the young girl’s face. 

I wish I could,” she said, in a low tone. I wish it 
with all my heart, but I see no possibility ; my sister 
and her children will want to nurse me, you know.” 

Aimee made a sign of assent. 

Why must I be always parted from those I love,” she 
murmured, at last. What shall I do, now ? No one 
needs me any more. I was so happy to help you, to be 
useful to you.” 

Madame Eobert did not answer ; she feared her own 
weakness. 

Aimee remained silent, her head leaning against her 
friend’s knee. 

“You must not lose courage, my child ; you know who 
sends us this trial.” 

The pretty head made a gesture of discouragement. 

“ Do you think? ” — her voice trembled, “ do you think 
that Mr. Arnauld will let me go back to the abbey ? ” 

“ I fear that he would think you still too young, but 
he has never told me any of his plans.” 

“ Too young ! Then what will he do with me ? 
Where will he send me ? It is only to disappoint me 
that he will not let me go back to the abbey, only 
because I told him one day it was what I most wanted. 
Oh ! I cannot help it, I detest ” — 

“ Hush, hush, child, in another moment you will regret 


SOEBOWING. 


101 


your words. Hitherto, Mr. Arnauld has shown himself 
an attentive and devoted guardian. I am sure he will 
do nothing but what he believes to be his duty.’’ 

^^But why is his duty always what I detest the 
most ? ” 

“ You have such different natures ; you are all impulse, 
and he all reason. You do not understand each other, 
that is why you have so little sympathy. Now, my lit- 
tle girl, I must ask you to preside at dinner ; send me a 
lamp, I shall go to bed early, I am very tired.” 

Aimee rose. 

“ Can I come back after dinner ? ” 

The invalid smiled. 

Yes,” said she, “ come as often as you will.” 

Some weeks had passed, and every one knew that the 
mistress of the house was very ill, and was going away 
immediately, even before all the young girls committed 
to her care had time to depart, even before the lot of her 
favorite had been settled. 

It was in the midst of all the disorder and come-and-go 
occasioned by all these departures, that Mr. Arnauld 
arrived on a beautiful afternoon, to pay a visit to his 
ward. 

The latter was not slow to join him in the deserted 
parlor, which alone, in the midst of universal disorder, 
kept an appearance of a little comfort. 

beg your pardon, monsieur,” said Amy, entering. 


102 


A HAPPY FINB. 


“ I think I have kept you waiting ; the servants do not 
know what they are doing ; one of the young girls told 
me that you were here/^ 

Mr. Arnauld seated himself, and invited Aimee to do 
the same. 

I have received an answer,’’ said he. 

The blood rushed to the young girl’s cheeks. 

^^A favorable answer. The family is composed of a 
young lady, her father, and three aunts.” 

Aimee sighed. 

The conditions are very simple ; they only exact that 
you should always speak French with the young girl, 
that you should read with her something instructive and 
interesting, that you should accompany her in her walks, 
in a word, that you should be an agreeable companion 
for her.” 

^‘1 should have preferred to teach little children.” 

^^One cannot always have one’s preferences, besides, 
we are happy wherever we do our duty. I should cer- 
tainly have liked it better if you had taken a nurse’s or a 
sister’s career ; but, since of your own confession, you 
feel for that holy task only disgust and aversion, I desire 
that you should accept the offer which has been made 
you, because I believe it to be advantageous for you. 
Monsieur Wallson lives in the country, which is equiva- 
lent to being far from the temptations and corruptions 
of great cities. He is a widower, which explains the 
presence of the three aunts.” 


SORROWING. 


103 


Must I go soon ? 

^^Next week. You will fix the day, and I will write 
to announce it. The journey is not long ; St. Eambert 
is only six or seven hours by the railroad.’’ 

There was a moment of silence, which the pastor broke, 
finally. 

“ I do not know,” said he, a little embarrassed, “ if you 
understand why I have taken so much pains to seek a 
family who live in the country, and in absolute quiet.” 

“ No, sir,” and her long lashes were lifted inquiringly. 
Mr. Arnauld turned away, as if her clear look discon- 
certed him. 

“ It has been my wish,” said he, in thus acting to 
shield you from temptation, humiliations, and possibly 
from sorrows of the heart.” 

Aimee remained motionless. 

^^The Wallson family,” pursued the pastor, ‘‘have 
only been in France a short time, and, besides, being in 
mourning, live in complete seclusion. You will not there 
be exposed, as might have happened otherwise, to meet 
any society, — any young men, above all ; for ” — here 
Mr. Arnauld cleared his throat, “you ought to know it, 
in our day there do not exist young men romantic enough 
to love a young girl for herself only j they want a name, 
a family, a fortune.” 

Aim6e had understood ; her crimson face showed it 
sufficiently. 

“ I am persuaded,” continued Mr. Arnauld, “ that you 


104 


A HAPPY FIND. 


will know one day, if you do not know it now, that I 
have acted from a sense of duty, and for your good. I 
know that Aunt Martha would have approved, and that 
thought is infinitely precious to me, and ought to be so 
to you.’’ 

Aimee did not answer. 

‘^Mr. Wallson,” added the pastor, rising, knows all 
the circumstances relative to your birth; but he has not 
thought it necessary to inform his family ; perhaps he 
•has feared objections on the part of the three ladies ; in 
short, he knows all that concerns you.” 

Aimee did not answer, she held out her hand to her 
guardian with an absent manner, and accompanied him 
to the door ; then she flew up the stairway to her room, 
and shut herself in. 


CHAPTEE XIII. 


AN EVENTFUL JOURNEY. 

Adieu, my child, may God bless you ! ’’ With these 
words Mr. Arnauld pressed his ward’s hand, assured 
himself that her little valise and portmanteau were in 
safety in the net above her head, and went out of the 
carriage at the moment when the train started. 

Aimee leaned against the car window, made a gesture 
of adieu, and drew back. 

Why should she linger ? She had no friends to watch 
her, and to wave their handkerchiefs. 

She looked around her absently. An old gentleman 
opposite to her had already installed himself comfort- 
ably for a nap ; a little farther, a mother tried to quiet 
three or four small children who all wanted to be at the 
same place at once. Aimee turned away to look outside, 
but all was gray : the sky, the olive fields, stretching as 
far as eye could reach, the earth, — even her poor heart, 
which felt itself more desolate, more lonely than ever. 

What should she do in this place where she was going, 
this unknown place among strangers to whom she had 
nothing to draw her ; who would doubtless see in her only 
a machine ready to distract and amuse their stupid little 
girl. 


J05 


106 


A HAPPY FIND. 


This thought swelled her heart with indignation. 
No, Aunt Martha would never have approved of this 
project ; she would never have sent her alone among 
strangers, at least, not without first assuring herself that 
she would be happy there ; but her happiness was the 
last thought of Mr. Arnauld. Never since Aunt 
Martha’s death had she felt so lonely, so sad. Her 
heart seemed to her a desert, where all was arid and 
dead. 

Why had her guardian not permitted her to go to live at 
the abbey ? What difference could one year more or less 
make ? 0 ! how long it was to wait until she was free, 
and could return to the only place she loved ! There, at 
least, she felt nearer Aunt Martha; it seemed to her 
that there her shadow, like a good genius, would accom- 
pany her, direct her, console her. 

But perhaps that was only an illusion ; perhaps there 
too, the frightful gap of her absence would make itself 
felt, more, perhaps, there, than anywhere else. No 
matter, she had decided to return there and die there ; 
she wished to be buried at Aunt Martha’s side, it was 
there only that she could be happy, there no more care, 
no more pain, no more Mr. Arnauld ! Yes, she hoped 
that that moment would come soon ; God would not let 
her grow old all alone in the world ; he knew that she 
could not live alone and desolate. 

At twenty, when one is in perfect health, the thought 
of death is sweet, and has nothing alarming. To wish 


AN EVENTFUL JOURNEY. 


107 


earnestly for death belongs more or less to the most 
beautiful time of life; later, when the affections, when 
habits have become chains binding us to earth, the heart 
naturally demands a respite, which is never sufficiently 
prolonged. 

For Aimee, to die was to leave a desert land, it was to 
rejoin Aunt Martha in a land of happiness, so her desire 
had nothing astonishing or exaggerated. 

The hours passed without many changes. Some trav- 
ellers had left, and had been replaced by others. She 
began to feel tired of her position; if only she could 
sleep ; she tried to lean her head upon the back of her 
seat, took off her hat, and sat motionless, though per- 
suaded that her efforts would be useless. 

When she opened her eyes there had been made, all 
unknown to her, a complete change in the car; the 
mother and children had disappeared, and in their place 
was a good old lady, who, imitating her example, slept 
the sleep of the just ; while opposite to her was a little 
young man, who appeared greatly to enjoy her con- 
fusion. She hastily replaced her hat and drew out 
her watch; no, it was not possible, she had just shut 
her eyes for a moment, she carried it to her ear. 

Do you wish to know what time it is ? ’’ asked her 
vis-a-vis. 

If you please,’’ she murmured. 

It is a quarter to four. Has your sleep made you 
miss your station ? ” 


108 


A HAPPY FIND. 


She answered with a negative movement of her head, 
and turned away to look outside. 

What a profile ! ” murmured the traveller, evidently 
with the intention of being heard; — ^^a true statue, not 
a flaw.” 

Aimee felt as if she should fly; her pulses beat 
violently, she dared not turn her head for fear of 
meeting the bold look and smile which she felt were 
fixed upon her. 

At this moment the whistle sounded, and the train 
slackened. There was a movement in the car ; the old 
lady had waked, and was hastily gathering up her 
effects, like one who had been upon the point of forget- 
ting herself. 

Motionless in her corner, Aimee watched her depart, 
and a strong desire to follow her took possession of her. 
But how to do it ? Had she yet the time to take down 
her valise and portmanteau ? Should she call a porter ? 
But what could she say, how could she explain her 
fright ; and, after all, was she not, perhaps, absurd and 
ridiculous? And while she reflected, the whistle cut 
short her hesitation. She ventured then an uneasy look 
around upon the object of her uneasiness, and met an 
insolent smile. 

The poor child felt herself taken like a bird in a net, 
without any means of escape. She called all her cour- 
age and coolness to her aid, and opened a book, in which 
she could not distinguish a line. The train was just 


AN EVENTFUL JOURNEY. 


109 


starting, when, at the instant, cries were heard: ^^Too 
late, too late ; no one can pass ! ’’ The young man put 
his head out of the window, and began to laugh noisily : 

“ Oh ! that is well done ! So much the worse for 
laggards. He can stay on the platform. Good-night ! ” 

Attracted by the noise, Aimee bent forward, just at 
the moment when the belated traveller, without caring 
for the injunctions which pursued him, sprang upon 
the steps, and, the instant after, entered the car, his air 
as calm and quiet as if he had been waiting at the 
station a half hour. 

The new comer glanced at the two travellers and 
smiled. 

I am an interloper,’’ thought he ; “ there is some one 
who wishes me at the ends of the earth ! What a 
furious look. I am very sorry, but he will have to bear 
it, though I will do my best not to be too much in the 
way.” And drawing from his pocket an immense news- 
paper, he lifted it between himself and those whom he 
took for a young couple, provoked at his tempestuous 
entrance. 

Her heart filled with immense joy, Aimee returned to 
her reading ; she would have liked to clasp her hands,’ 
and say as Aunt Martha before her : Who am I that 
thou shouldest care for me ! ” But her fears were not 
entirely dissipated. The young man had immediately 
seen the new-comer’s error, and had resolved to profit 
by it. He bent familiarly towards the young girl, and 


110 


A HAPPY FINt). 


murmured some words to which she did not answer. 
But though she took care to keep her eyes fixed upon 
her book, she could not keep from blushing, and was 
annoyed at the nonsense of which she could not always 
understand the words, though pronounced nearly in her 
ear. 

The position was becoming unendurable ; the young 
man’s insolent familiarity increased from minute to 
minute. The poor child’s hands were clasped nervously. 
What right had he to treat her thus ? What had she 
done to draw upon herself this outrage ? Did he not 
see that she was alone and defenceless ? How much 
longer would he continue this odious pleasantry ? 

And while she thought thus, the train slackened, the 
stranger, who, up to this moment, had been motionless, 
folded his paper. 

“ He is going,” thought Aimee, and in her agony, she 
closed her eyes. 

A hand was laid upon hers. 

The moment after, as by an electric shock, she found 
herself standing in the middle of the car, her face pale 
as death, her hands joined, her look fixed upon the 
stranger, who, without waiting an explanation, sprang 
from his seat, and threw himself upon her persecutor. 

“ What do you mean ? ” sneered the latter, have you 
lost your wits ? ” 

Coward! Wretch!” responded the other, shaking 
him violently, and pushing him towards the door. 


AN EVENTFUL JOtIBNEY. 


Ill 


^^Ah! mind your own business.” 

‘‘That is just what I am doing.” 

“ Let me go.” 

“Not before you are on the pavement.” 

“Ah ! do you think” — and he began to struggle with 
all the rage which a consciousness of weakness gives. 
But the stranger, larger, stronger, and calmer, held him 
as if in a vise. 

“Get down,” said he, in a suppressed voice, “and 
instantly, or I will call for help.” 

“ It is you that shall get down, Yankee that you are. 
Go back and preach your sermons at home,” the young 
man vociferated. 

“ I beg your pardon, I am as much at home here as you 
are, though I have indeed come from a country where it 
is considered an honor to protect defenceless women. 

“ Once more, mind your own business, I am travelling 
with this young lady.” 

“ That is not true. I thought so at first, but I have 
heard enough to know better. There, the train stops, 
I advise you to leave quietly, or I will call for assistance.” 

He opened the door, still holding the arm of his 
prisoner, who made useless efforts to free himself. 

“ Now get down, or I will call.” 

“We shall meet again,” cried the young man, precipi- 
tating himself from the car, “ and we shall fight.” 

“With you? Nonsense.” 

“Yes, with me. I shall compel you.” 


112 


A HAPPY FIND. 


The stranger shrugged his shoulders. 

You are afraid/^ sneered the other, still upon the 
step. 

Yes, I should be afraid of killing you. Take care ! ’’ 
and with no more ceremony, he shut the car door, and 
quietly returned to his place. 

Aimee had also taken hers, and sat motionless, her 
face turned towards the window. 

The stranger watched her attentively during a few 
seconds, and saw that she was trying to control the 
trembling of her hands. 

He rose, and approached her. 

‘‘You have been much frightened,” said he, “I am 
sorry I did not help you sooner, but I did not dare, I 
was not sure, I feared being in the way.” 

Aimee turned towards him a disturbed face. 

“It is nothing,” said she, trying to smile, “thank you 
very much.” 

“Have you anything to drink ? You really ought to 
take something.” 

“ No thank you, it will pass away,” and she lifted her 
eyes for the second time to the ones looking at her so 
compassionately and kindly. 

It was a young face, handsome and intelligent, where 
shone two eyes of a clear blue, expressive of benevolence 
and gayety. His mouth, rather laughing, was nearly 
hidden by a moustache the same color as his hair, dark 
and curly, that one could perceive under his travelling cap. 


£'VFJ^TFirZ JOURNEY. 


113 


“ Have you much farther to go ? ’’ asked he. 

“No, thank you. I stop at St. Eambert, where I 
am expected. I do not think we can be very far 
away.’^ 

“ Only two stations.” 

“ Do you know that place ? Is it as ugly as this ? ” 
And Aimee pointed to the monotonous plain which 
extended before them. 

The stranger smiled. 

“ I have only been in this country a few weeks,” said 
he, “ but, you know, all depends upon the comparisons 
which one makes. To any one who has lived in the 
Midi,* this country inevitably appears flat and ugly. 
All is mud color, even the houses seem to be like mush- 
rooms, from their color.” 

Aim^e smiled; but the stranger remarked that her 
smile was sad rather than gay. He would have liked to 
ask what she was going to do at St. Eambert, or at least, 
her name, but he did not dare, for she had not yet said a 
word about herself, and though her manner was amiable, 
and grateful, she had, nevertheless, a reserved dignity, 
which defied all indiscretion. 

The conversation quickly languished. Aimee watched 
aimlessly this new landscape, which had no attractions 
for her. All her apprehensions had returned, a vague 
uneasiness filled her heart ; a year of waiting seems so 

* Midi. The south of France. This term is used much as 
“ The South,” is employed in speaking of the Southern States. 


114 


A MAFPr FIND. 


long, above all, when that year promises only pain and 
sacrifice. 

The stranger, while glancing from time to time at 
this or that peculiarity of the country, watched her 
stealthily. Her growing uneasiness and agitation had 
not escaped him ; but what could he do ? Does not 
etiquette — society’s laws, compel us to keep to our- 
selves the sympathy we sometimes feel for our young 
brothers whom we meet by chance ? The young man 
then kept silent, and contented himself with many con- 
jectures, while watching with an air which he tried to 
render careless, the pale face, and pure, regular features 
of his companion opposite. 

Here we are at St. Eambert ! ” said he, as the train 
once more slackened. He* rose, took down the young 
girl’s valise and portmanteau, and left the car, followed 
by Aimee. 

^^Are you sure of being met?” he asked, looking 
around him. 

^^Oh! yes, quite sure; thank you. I ought to find 
the carriage behind the station.” She held out her 
hand. “Thank you!” she repeated; it was all that 
she could say. 

The young man had lifted his cap, and revealed a 
forest of dark curly hair. He quickly pressed the hand 
which she extended, and sprang back into the car. 


CHAPTEK XIV. 


aimjee’s new home. 

Aimee had hardly taken a few steps before a boy 
approached her, and held out a card. 

‘‘Is it for you, mademoiselle ? 

Aimee glanced at it. 

“Yes, thank you, and here is the receipt for my bag- 
gage.’’ 

The boy possessed himself of her valise, and preceded 
her out of the station, where a comfortable carriage was 
waiting near the platform. 

As it was already dark, Aimee did not even look out of 
the door to notice their route. Had she not a long year 
before her in which to study that frightful country, of 
which she already felt tired and disgusted ? 

She threw herself back in the carriage and closed 
her eyes, trying to control her agitation, and the beating 
of her heart. 

At last the carriage stopped, and Aimee was ushered 
into the house by a servant, who preceded her through a 
richly furnished vestibule, and left her trembling and 
pale with emotion, upon the threshold of a rather large 
room, brilliantly illuminated by the flames of a great 
115 


116 


A ffAPPr FIND. 


fire on the hearth, around which were seated four ladies, 
all dressed in crape, from head to foot. 

At the moment the door opened, four heads were 
turned towards Aimee, and four pairs of eyes looked at 
her through four pairs of spectacles, then the youngest 
of all rose quickly and welcomed her, in very bad 
French ; but with so cordial an accent, and so warm a 
hand-clasp, that the poor traveller felt her heart grow 
warm. 

Mademoiselle Valrose, let me introduce you to my 
aunts.^^ 

The three ladies bowed, and one of them held out her 
hand to Aim^e, asking her if the journey had fatigued 
her ; then she asked her niece to ring. 

^^It is not necessary. Aunt Lore, I will take Mile. 
Valrose to her room myself.’’ 

But, Maud, my child, it would be better to ring for 
Catherine.” 

Without disturbing herself with this objection, Maud 
opened the door, and disappeared, followed by Aimee, 
who asked no better than to escape from the three pairs 
of spectacles, which inspected her from head to foot. 

The young girl mounted the stairway breathlessly, 
and turned to wait for the traveller. 

“ This is your room,” said she, opening a door, and 
this is mine ; they are side by side. My aunts’ rooms 
are far away, on the other side.” 

With these words, she preceded Aimee into a small 


AIMEE’S NEW HOME. 


117 


room, elegant and comfortable, where a great fire was 
burning on the hearth, lighting up everything with a 
pleasant light. 

IVIiss Maud lit the candles herself. 

^^See,’’ said she, ^^we can communicate with each 
other by that door; but if you prefer, we can each 
lock it from our own side. My room is just like 
yours,” added she; ^Hhe only difference is that yours 
is furnished in blue, and mine in rose, which is very 
well, as you are almost blonde.” 

Aimee stunned, stupefied, only answered with a smile, 
while she asked herself how this small person already 
knew that she was blonde. 

^^Now” said Maud, “I will ring for them to bring 
you some dinner, and I will leave you to rest.” 

Then coming back again, — 

‘^Do you think.” she added, ^Hhat my accent is very 
bad?” 

“ I can hardly judge yet,” responded Aimee, both em- 
barrassed and amused. 

“I am so anxious to speak French correctly,” re- 
sumed the small person, with a deep sigh ; “ but it is so 
difficult. Do you think I shall ever succeed ? ” 

“I do not doubt it.” 

A brilliant smile answered these words. 

Now I will leave you, but ” — 

But, what ? ” 

Is it indiscreet to ask you your age ? ” 


118 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Not at all ; I am nineteen.’’ 

What luck ! all the others were much older. I am 
eighteen, but I am much smaller than you,” added she, 
with so regretful an air that Aimee could not help 
laughing heartily, while she said to herself that it 
would be a great pity to change anything in that tiny 
figure which harmonized so well with the little brown 
head, whose graceful movements she could not but 
admire. 

At this moment the servant entered, and began to 
arrange the table. 

^‘Now,” said the young girl, “I am going; I hope you 
will have a good night’s rest. I will try to make no 
noise in undressing, but I am so awkward that I cannot 
pass a chair without upsetting it.” 

She held out her hand to Aimee. 

“ You are frightfully pale, — are 3^ou ill ? ” 

No, not at all, only very tired.” 

^^Ah! well, that is not contagious, fortunately; you 
see” — And she began to laugh with all her heart, “you 
are already my fourth companion within three months. 
The first — wait — yes, I remember, she knew just 
enough Trench to be a child’s nurse ; she only stayed a 
few days. The second had a — what do you call it ? 
— you know what, those nervous movements in the 
face ; it seemed that it was very contagious, for I began 
to make faces, immediately; she stayed three or four 
weeks. The third could not read aloud without being 


ALIEE S NEW UOME. 


119 


hoarse. At the end of a fortnight, my aunts sent for 
the doctor, who discovered a malady of the larynx. She 
left at once ; I did not even dare to say good-by, for you 
know, it is very contagious. No one has yet gone into 
her room, and I think that if my aunts saw you now, 
they would be afraid for you to sleep here ; but that is 
all the same to me, I wished it, because I was delighted 
to have some one to talk to, and, as I had papa on my 
side, I succeeded. Besides,” she added, while her vel- 
vety black eyes shone with mischief; “you will see 
very soon, I always have my own way.” 

With these words she ran off, leaving Aimee some- 
what amazed, and asking herself if all young Americans 
were as communicative as Miss Maud. 

“ It is hardly worth while to open my trunk,” thought 
she, kneeling before it to untie the cords; “they will 
discover some malady, soon, no doubt, and will send me 
away without giving me time to pack. After all, I 
would not be very sorry, though the beginning is not so 
terrible as I supposed.” 

And while she was thus musing, Maud had returned 
to the parlor, and had fallen like a bomb in the midst of 
the three scandalized ladies. 

“Well,” said one of them, the eldest, doubtless, for her 
gray hairs were covered with a tiny cap, light and elegant, 
and which strongly resembled a cock’s comb : “ you have 
stayed long enough to have become well acquainted. I 
will engage that you are already intimate.” 


120 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Not yet, Aunt Isa ; but it is her fault, not mine.’’ 

Mademoiselle Vaudrai pursed her lips, and murmured 
some words, of which one could only distinguish ^^bad 
education.” 

thought her frightfully pale,” added another of 
the old ladies; fear greatly that we shall have 
trouble.” 

“ Oh ! it is nothing. Aunt Estelle, she is only tired, 
she told me that she was in perfect health.” 

‘^We will see what the doctor says. Have you sent 
for him, Dolores ? ” added the lady, without noticing 
her niece’s words. 

‘^No, not yet; I thought that he could see Made- 
moiselle Valrose on his next visit.” 

^^Oh! Aunt Lore, how nice you are; I am sure it 
would have annoyed her greatly.” 

The lady smiled, and the young girl drew her chair to 
hers. 

I think,” said she, confidentially, “ that we shall get 
along perfectly.” 

‘^But, my darling, you do not know her yet.” 

Dolores, what nonsense is that child saying ? ” 
am telling Aunt Lore a secret, you ought not to 
listen. Aunt Isa.” 

^^Do you know,” added the little mischief, lowering 
her voice still more, in order to excite the curiosity of 
the two other ladies, ^‘1 have a presentiment that we 
have succeeded.” 


AIMEKS NEW UOME. 


121 


“It was time,” sighed Aunt Lore, “but what makes 
you think so ? ” 

“Oh! I do not know; everything. To begin with, 
she is beautiful, and has a distinguished air ; and I am 
sure she is good, I have seen it in her smile, and in the 
way which she looked at me.” 

“ Little goose, remember that you are nearsighted ; 
you have only half seen her, as happens often enough.” 

“ That is impossible, I have looked at her quite close, 
with and without spectacles. I will describe her to you, 
and you will see to-morrow if I am mistaken : her hair 
is neither blonde nor brown, and very wavy ; her mouth, 
when she does not smile, has a melancholy expression, 
but it is just what I like ; her eyes are splendid, and she 
has lashes as long as thatN 
“ Have you measured them ? ” 

“ No, Aunt Isa, I have seen them.” 

“Maud, you must be on your guard against your 
exaggerations ; no one will believe you,” added the lady, 
severely. 

“ But, Aunt Isa, I do not exaggerate except by my 
gesture — there is papa ! ” and, with a spring, the young 
girl was in the arms of a very tall and very brown 
gentleman, whom she strikingly resembled, and who had 
been standing for several seconds on the threshold. 

“ Papa, she has come ” — 

“ Who, what, my little girl ? ” 

“Number four. Mademoiselle Valrose.” 


122 


A HAPFY FIND, 


You do not seem glad/’ 

Do you want me to jump for joy around the room ? 
Let me see her first. Does she please you, my child ? ” 
What a question, Edwin ! When have you ever 
heard Maud say that any one displeased her. She has no 
taste or discernment.” 

Ah ! really ! I have never perceived it.” 

In saying these words, Mr. Wallson drew his daughter 
upon his lap, and pinched her cheek to punish her for her 
lack of judgment. Maud began anew the enthusiastic 
description she had already given of her new companion. 
Shall you not be glad to see her, papa ? ” 

I am afraid my impatience will not let me sleep.” 

Oh, how naughty you are ! everybody laughs* at me, 
I am going to bed.” 

Have you been at the factory until now, Edwin ? ” 
Certainly, I should have come home sooner, other- 
wise. I waited till Douay returned.” 

^^Has he had a successful journey ? ” 

Not very, I believe ; he has not found the people he 
wanted to see, but one of these days he will go again. 
Just now, he will resume the direction of affairs — 
What are you doing there, Maud ? I thought you had 
gone to bed.” 

Oh ! I am in no hurry, but I am going now ; good- 
night,” and she vanished, 


CHAPTEK XV. 


WALKING AND TALKING. 

A LIGHT tap on the door of communication notified 
Aimee that her companion wished to speak to her. She 
went to open the door, and received her in the midst of 
the disorder which a new installation always necessitates. 

^^Have you slept well, Mademoiselle Valrose ? I 
made no noise yesterday evening.” 

Thank you,” and Aimee returned the young girPs 
cordial clasp ; “ I think,” she added, smiling and resum- 
ing her work, “ that you could have upset all your chairs 
without disturbing my slumbers.” 

Oh ! please leave all that, now, and come to break- 
fast, papa wants to see you before he goes out.” 

Xot without apprehension, Aimee followed the young 
girl to the dining-room, where the master of the house 
was pacing up and down, while waiting for them. At 
the sight of him all her fears vanished, for Mr. Wallson, 
like his daughter, possessed the rare gift of cordial 
simplicity, which set the most timid at their ease. 

They went to the table, and the repast was much less 
embarrassing than Aimee had expected. 

I hope,” said he, as soon as Maud left the room, 
123 


124 


HAPPY FIND. 


‘Hhat you will soon be quite at home here; it is not so 
much to stimulate my little daughter’s zeal/’ continued 
he, that I have wished you to stay, but as a companion 
and friend. Hitherto, our experiences have not been 
brilliant, my sisters-in-law have not been very fortunate. 
That is why I have acquiesced in my daughter’s wish to 
have a companion of her own age, with whom she could 
laugh and talk at her ease. Her aunts are very kind, 
but not fitted to replace the mother she has lost, and to 
bring up a child with a temperament like Maud’s. They 
do not in the least understand her, and see in her only a 
badly educated little girl ; but you will soon see, if you 
take the trouble, that under that mischievous and care- 
less exterior is hidden a straightforward nature, and an 
affectionate heart. How I shall leave you ; I must go 
to my business.” 

He went out, and Aimee returned to her room to 
arrange her dress. 

She had hardly finished when her door once more 
opened, and a smiling little face made its appearance. 

Would you not like to go out, Mademoiselle Valrose ? 
The air is very mild, and we have permission to stay out 
of doors until lunch.” 

Aimee willingly shut the desk which she had opened 
to write to Mr. Arnauld, and took her hat. 

Will you not put on a cloak ? ” 

“It is not necessary, since it is not cold.” 

“ How fortunate you are ! I have to be wrapped up 


TALKING ANT) TALKING. 125 

like a mummy. My aunts would not let me go out 
otherwise.’’ 

“Are you ill?” asked Aimee, looking closely at the 
small face which emerged from a mass of furs. 

“ I ? Not at all ; only you know after mamma’s death 
my aunts are always afraid, and they think if they wrap 
me up in this way, they will preserve me from some 
sickness.” 

Whife talking, the two young girls followed the long 
avenue of lindens, still leafless, which had given the 
name to Mr. Wallson’s property, and which soon led 
them to the open country. 

The air was pure and light, and, though nature was 
still asleep, one felt the approach of spring in each 
breeze which caressed the cheeks of the two walkers. 

They walked in silence for a minute or two, when the 
little American turned suddenly toward Aimee, — 

“Mademoiselle Valrose, do you think I am like my 
aunts ? Each of them pretends that I am her living 
portrait, and yet they are each as different as possible.” 

“ How can I tell,” responded Aimee, laughingly, “ I 
have hardly seen them. But it seems to me that you 
resemble your father too much to be the portrait of any 
of your aunts.” 

“But” — she hesitated — “I have, nevertheless, in- 
herited one thing from them, a frightful thing. You 
must have already noticed it.” 

Aimee smiled. 


126 


A HAPPY FIND, 


it not dreadful? And I can have inherited it 
from no one else, for mamma was not nearsighted, and 
papa has excellent sight. I was so afraid you would 
be nearsighted, also; the one before the last was, you 
know, the one who had that nervous affection. You 
can imagine the effect we produce when we are all 
together.’’ 

Can you, really, not do without spectacles ? ” 

^‘No, not if I wish to see; I have tried, but I have 
made so many blunders that I have had to resign my- 
self. Do you think them horrible ? ” 

Why, no ; they give character to faces which lack it.” 
It was Maud’s turn to laugh heartily. 

“ I am so glad,” resumed she, that you should know 
my aunts ; you will see how funny they are. They say 
that Aunt Isa used to be very beautiful and very learned ; 
at present, she is onli/ very learned. She gives me my 
lessons, but I do her no honor, as you will soon see. 
She is also the oldest, and the severest. She holds to 
propriety and decorum above everything, so she thinks 
that I have received a lamentable education, which 
makes papa laugh, for he does not care for decorum. 

“ Aunt Estelle is the second, and as learned after her 
fashion as Aunt Isa. She has made quite a profound 
study of medicine ; she teaches me — what do you call 
that horrible science which treats of the human body ? ” 
Ph^^siology.” 

Yes, physiology ; it is the lesson that I detest the 


WALKING AND TALKING. 


127 


most. I forget all those horrible names as quickly as 
I learn them ; but Aunt Estelle wishes me to continue, 
because she thinks that a woman who does not know a 
little about medicine has no right to live — it is her 
hobby. 

^^Aunt Dolores, or Aunt Lore, as I call her, is the 
youngest and the nicest. I like her the best, but she is 
frightfully afraid of her sisters, and does not dare to 
spoil me, as she would like.’’ 

She checked herself, but added, instantly, — 

You were also brought up by an aunt, were you not? 
Was she as funny as mine are ? ” 

Aimee crimsoned, and did not answer at once. 

“ I loved Aunt Martha as one loves one’s own mother,” 
said she at last, in a voice which trembled a little. 

Maud looked at her, and cried, in a tone of petulance 
and grief at once, — 

There, now! I have given you pain. I am sure 
that you already regret having come.” 

No, no ; not yet.” 

Did you come against your inclination ? ” 

Aimee hesitated. 

‘^Not exactly, but I should have preferred to go to 
my home at Silvereal, if I had not been thought too 
young to live alone.” 

I am very glad of it, and I hope you will be thought 
so for a long time yet. You do not know how tired I 
am of living here. Papa is nearly always at the works ; 


128 


A HAPPY PINP. 


we know no one, we never go anywhere, and no one 
comes here.’’ 

a Why?” 

^^My aunts think it more proper on account of our 
mourning; but, meanwhile, I am dying of ennui. Do 
you think you can stay ? ” 

Aimee smiled. 

“I hope so,” said she, ^Hhat is, if your aunts do not 
discover that I have some disease.” 

Maud did not answer, and kept silent for a quarter of 
a minute. 

“Would you object,” said she, then, “to call me by 
my name ? ” 

“ Is it not a little soon ? ” answered Aimee. “ What 
will your aunts say ? ” 

“What they like, that matters little ; it will please 
me ; but I would like also to call you by your 
name.” 

“ Of course.” 

They left at this moment the open path, to take a 
little path bordered by hedges. 

“ Are you not going rather far ? ” asked Aimee. 

“ We will return to the house immediately ; we are 
just at the entrance of the park, that you must have seen 
from your window; but first I am going to show you 
one of the curiosities of the country. Look there, at the 
right, do you see ? ” 

“ Ho, I only see a house.” 


WALKING AND TALKING, 129 

“A house ! do you call that a house ? Come, we shall 
soon be in front of it. Is it not a real palace ? ” 

They had just reached a handsome gate, behind which 
was the house to which Maud had given the name of a 
palace. 

Is it not charming ? repeated the young girl, lower- 
ing her voice. “ Look at those balconies, those marble 
columns, those conservatories ! Well, this gem is 
inhabited by a frightful man ! 

Aim^e looked at her, surprised and incredulous. 

‘‘Yes, a frightful man,” repeated Maud, still in a low 
voice, “ who never leaves home, and never sees any one 
except the doctor, who was a friend of his childhood.” 

“ What is his name ? ” 

“ St. Kock. But when you have seen him, you will 
understand why the people here call him ‘Old Kock.^ 
People are not stupid ; they soon found out that the first 
^art of his name is almost a sacrilege.” 

“But what harm has he done ? ” 

“ I know nothing about him ; it is all a mystery, only 
the doctor knows all his life, but he will never speak 
about it. In a few weeks,” continued the young girl, 
“ if you come here, you will see the most splendid beds 
of flowers that you can imagine ; all these walks will be 
bordered with rare plants and shrubs, whose perfume 
you can smell from here. He has a passion for flowers, 
and his greenhouses are marvels.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” 


130 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Through the doctor. It was he who — she checked 
herself. 

They heard a step upon the gravel. 

Let us go,” said Aimee. 

‘^No, wait a minute, I want to see him; yes, it is he; 
look how he walks, with his head bent, he does not see us.” 

An old man advanced slowly, his hands behind his 
back, his head uncovered, talking to himself in an under- 
tone, as men often do who live alone. A movement on 
the part of Maud attracted his attention, he raised his 
head, glanced toward the gate, and faced about abruptly. 

think he looks unhappy rather than wicked,” 
murmured Aimee. 

am not of that opinion,” replied Maud, moving 
away. ‘^Come, we shall be late,” and traversing the 
path, they soon gained the park entrance. 

^^You can choose any path you please,” said Maud. 

All lead to Kome, that is to say, to the Lindens. They 
cross and separate, only to have the pleasure of meeting 
and crossing again ; they always remind me of quarrel- 
some children, who sulk and make peace, just to begin 
quarrelling again. — You will see how pretty it will be 
here in a few days,” added she ; when the trees are 
covered with young leaves, and the birds sing from 
morning till night. The sun will not be able then to 
reach the paths, as it does to-day.” 

Is not that a pity ? ” asked Aim^e, who instinctively 
thought of a life which no ray from above can illumine. 


WALKING AND TALKING. Jgl 

A pity ? Oh ! no, the coolness is delicious. It is the 
only place habitable during the summer months.’’ 

At this instant, the sound of a bell reached the young 
girls. 

That is for lunch,” cried Maud, let us run, we are 
not very far from the house.” 

The forest grew thinner, and in a few moments they 
were outside. 

“We will not make an elaborate toilette to-day,” said 
the young girl, springing into the house, “ let us hurry ! ” 

Some moments later, both entered the dining-room, 
where the three ladies were solemnly waiting for them. 

“We shall have a storm,” murmured Maud, in Aimee’s 
ear, as she seated herself near her. 

Mademoiselle Isabeau broke the silence first, in order 
to show, elaborately and severely, that tardiness is worse 
than any fault, coming always from laziness, carelessness, 
or lack of respect for others. 

Here, Maud’s foot pressed Aimde’s, which gave no 
answering touch. 

Then Mademoiselle Estelle took her turn, confirming 
her sister’s words, to prove that this defect so insignifi- 
cant apparently, generally brought with it a whole train 
of disasters, not only as regards the soul, but, above all, 
ae regards the health of the body. She developed her 
theory minutely, until an irreverent yawn from her 
niece checked her. The lady looked at her watch. 

“Maud, it is time to go and rest. Mademoiselle Val- 


13 ^. 


A BAPPY FINP. 


rose, I think you will do well to do the same ; you seem 
fatigued.” 

Thank you, I never sleep during the day.” 

In that case, you can employ these two hours as you 
will j Maud must rest, it is necessary for her health.” 

The two young girls retired, and Aim^e went to finish 
her letter ; after which, she went in search of a servant 
to whom she gave it. Then she wandered from room to 
room, until, feeling a little tired, she went to the window, 
and leaned against it. 

At the end of a moment, the noise of a door opening 
gently was heard, and she saw Mademoiselle Dolores, 
who smiled at perceiving her. 

Do not disturb yourself,” said she, I came to knit 
here a moment, while my sisters are resting ; that is a 
habit I have never been able to acquire. Have you had 
a pleasant walk this morning ? ” 

^^Yes, but a little too long, I fear,” responded Aim6e, 
smilingly ; we came back by the park.” 

By the park ! I am sure that Maud stopped at St. 
Bock’s ; she is like babies who always want to see what 
frightens them ; but behind a gate, where they feel safe.” 

Is that man really so bad as to frighten people ? ” 

Beally, I know nothing about him ; nobody knows 
him except his friend, the doctor, who is also our friend ; 
but one might as well ask a tombstone, as ask him.” 

Has he no family ? ” 

No, that is to say, I do not know ; he has not always 


WALKING AND TALKING. 


133 


lived here ; he came here, they say, in order to be near 
the doctor, who has been his friend from childhood. But 
he has from the first closed his door to all visitors, even 
to us, who are perhaps the oldest family in the country ; 
the Vaudrai, as any one could have told him, if he had 
taken the trouble to inquire.’’ 

In her indignation, the little lady dropped a stitch, 
which she picked up in silence. 

When she resumed, her thoughts had taken another 
turn. ^ 

Your task here will not be difficult,” continued she, 
as you have already been able to see. Though Maud 
has been brought up a VAmericaine, that is to say, not 
brought up at all, she has a good disposition, and an 
affectionate heart. The dear little girl suffered greatly 
from the death of her mother, and would have much 
preferred to return to America ; but our poor sister, who 
wished to see her home and family once more before 
she died, also made her husband promise to leave the 
care of Maud’s education to Isa and Estelle. You under- 
stand, it was very natural, she had herself been brought 
up by my sisters, our mother having died at her birth. 
Edwin, I mean Mr. Wallson, tried to persuade us to go 
back to America with him, but we did not have the 
courage ; ten days at sea ! We were all sick at the bare 
thought. Edwin felt that he could not leave his daugh- 
ter, that he ought to stay, and so he bought this property, 
had it arranged after his liking, and begged us to come 


134 


A HAPPY FIND. 


and live with him, and I think he congratulates himself 
now that he did not go back.” 

Eeally ! ” 

I do not mean to say that, at the first moment, this 
decision did not cost him much, and I think that if he 
did not have his glass works, he would grieve still ; but, 
happily for him, his activity suddenly awoke, and he 
had the good idea of establishing at his own expense, a 
small glass factory, a short distance from St. Eambert. 
Any one else would have been frightened at the idea ; 
the enterprise was so uncertain, but, thanks to the 
enormous capital he could employ, he has been able to 
make something colossal, so colossal, that he has been 
forced to take a partner, to superintend things, for, you 
see, Edwin, Mr. Wall son, I mean, occupies himself just 
enough for a distraction. As soon as he began to feel 
the care of it, he wrote to one of his friends, who had 
long wished to establish himself in Europe ; besides, all 
Americans are the same, they do not think they have 
lived, unless they come to Europe, at least once. It is 
this friend who is now at the head of the business. 
But — I hear a step on the stairs. Go, and dress 
quickly for our drive; my sister does not like to be 
kept waiting.” 

Aimee hastened from the room, and narrowly missed 
stumbling against Mademoiselle Isabeau, who uttered a 
cry of indignation. The young girl excused herself 
timidly, and, a few minutes later, the five ladies took 


WALKING AND TALKING. 135 

their places in the elegant carriage in which, each day, 
they took their established drive. 

“ Where shall we go to-day ? ” asked Mademoiselle 
Isabeau. 

Perhaps,’’ suggested Maud, <^Aimee would like to 
see the factory ? ” 

“You mean Mademoiselle Valrose.” 

“ No, I mean Aimee ; she has permitted me to call her 
by her name.” 

“ In any case, it is too late to go to the factory to-day,” 
responded the lady, dryly. 

No one made any further suggestion, and the coachman, 
receiving no order, quietly took the principal drive. 

It was with a sigh of relief that Aimee descended from 
the carriage, and went up to her room, where Maud 
followed her. 

“ I hate Aunt Isa,” cried she. 

Aimee did not answer. 

“ Why do you not say something ? ” 

“ Because I hope that is not true.” 

“ True or not, I think her abominable, and I am sure 
you do, too.” 

Aimee could not help laughing, and her little compan- 
ion approached the window. 

“ Do you play the piano ? ” asked she, turning 
suddenly. 

“ Horribly ; I began too late.” 

“ That is nothing, I have some duets, come.” 


136 


A ffAPFY FIND. 


And without waiting her consent, she drew Aiinee 
from the room. Happily for them both, Mademoiselle 
Isabeau was not in their way. 

They were so gayly occupied, some moments later, that 
they did not hear the parlor door open and shut. 

Good heavens ! What a racket ! ’’ said a voice near 
them. 

Maud turned quickly, and, upsetting the piano stool, 
ran to her father. 

The evening passed gayly. Once near him, Maud knew 
no constraint, and, sure of his approbation, she let her- 
self act as she would, and say and do all the foolish 
things that came into her head. It mattered little to 
her. Aunt Isa’s severe looks and offended airs ; her 
father appeared perfectly happy, and that was all that 
she wanted. 

“ Dear Edwin,” said Mademoiselle Isabeau, as soon as 
the young girls had retired, ^^are you really going to 
permit Maud to call Mademoiselle Valrose by her Chris- 
tian name ? ” 

Why not, if that pleases her, and if Mademoiselle 
Valrose consents ? ” 

‘^Do you not think it will spoil her, to treat her so 
familiarly ? ” 

What do you mean by spoil ? ” 

“ Is it not bad for her to be placed upon a footing of 
perfect equality with your daughter ? ” 

And why should they not be on a footing of equality ? 


WALKING AND TALKING. 137 

It is true that Mademoiselle Valrose has received a bet- 
ter education than Maud, and that she has a more distin- 
guished air than my noisy little girl, but if she permits 
her to be her friend, why should I hinder her ? 

As he said these words, Mr. Wallson began to stir the 
fire, in order to hide the mischievous smile which he 
could not repress. 

Edwin ! Is that really your idea ? ’’ 

He started. 

What have I said that was remarkable ? You nearly 
frightened me, Isa.’’ 

‘^You are grateful to Mademoiselle Valrose because 
she permits Maud to be her friend ? ” 

The lady spoke slowly, emphasizing each word. Mr. 
Wallson slightly shrugged his shoulders. 

I am grateful,” said he, at last, “ towards those who 
do good to my daughter, and I can only rejoice to see 
that Maud cares for her new companion.” Mr. Wall- 
son’s tone was almost grave. ^‘1 have been very careful 
this time,” continued he, “ I have not admitted her here 
carelessly, for I begin to be tired of these perpetual 
changes.” 

After which Mr. Wallson did as men generally do, 
after they have drawn upon themselves feminine dis- 
content, — he hastened to say good night, and with- 
drew. 

^^All men are the same,” murmured Mademoiselle 
Isabeau, after a few moments of silence. ^^All, with- 


138 


A HAPPY FIND, 


out exception, let themselves be captivated by a pretty 
face ; they never see deeper than the exterior.” 

And with these words she rose, and retired with 
dignity, followed by the approving murmur of her 
heavy train. 



CHAPTER XVI. 


A MUTUAL RECOGNITION. 

It was the hour assigned by the Misses Vaudrai for 
their niece’s rest. 

Aiin4e was, in consequence, alone in her pretty room, 
seated near the open window, a book upon her lap ; she 
was indulging herself in the luxury of a reverie. 

It was Sunday, her first Sunday at the Lindens, and 
it seemed to her that weeks, even months, had rolled 
away since her arrival. Not that she was tired or un- 
happy ; on the contrary, not for many years, since the 
loss of Aunt Martha, had she been so happy. God had 
guided her feet; she was sure of it. He had brought 
her here, and that thought filled her with happiness and 
confusion at the same time. He had not treated her as 
she deserved, according to her struggles, Jier apprehen- 
sions, her lack of confidence. A sigh of relief swelled 
her breast, she raised her eyes, wet with tears, towards 
the heaven to which Aunt Martha had lifted so many 
prayers, which came back to her child now in a shower 
of blessing ; which surrounded her as with a protecting 
shield, and which would, one day, lead her victorious, to 
that home where she had preceded her ; where she had 
entered in with a radiant look, and cry of triumph. 

139 


140 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Perhaps, she knew, at that very moment, of the paternal 
Hand which would never abandon her little Aimee. 

Here she was interrupted by Miss Maud, who entered 
without asking permission, as a guest, sure of being 
welcome. 

What have you been doing all this time ? ” said she, 
approaching the window. 

have been reading, as you see.’’ And Aimee 
pointed to the book open on her lap. 

Maud looked first at her companion’s face, then at the 
book. 

Is it a sad story that you have been reading ? ” 

“Ho, why ? ” 

“Because you have been crying.” 

“ Then I did it without being conscious of it. I forgot 
myself a moment in some memories.” 

The brown face took an uneasy expression. 

“ Are you unhappy ? Do you want to go away ? ” 

“Ho, no, not for anything in the world,” responded 
Aimee, warm^". 

A very warm kiss, if a rather rough one, rewarded 
these words. 

“You do not know how relieved I am. I feared that 
you could not endure Aunt Isa. You are often sad 
when you do not talk, and that frightens me.” 

Aim^e smiled. 

“ I assure you that you have nothing to fear ; I have 
not the slightest desire to go away.” 


A MUTUAL iitJCOGNITlOM. 


141 


And you love me a little ? ” 

A great deal, do you not know it ? 

No, at least, I was not sure about it ; you never pet 
me/^ 

It is because I have lost the habit ; in the days of 
old, I used to devour Aunt Martha with kisses.’’ And 
as she said this, Aiinee drew the pretty little face to 
hers, and kissed it tenderly. 

^^Now,” said Maud, her velvety eyes sparkling, 

we must go down ; I am sure that the gentlemen 
expect their coffee ; I always give it to them on 
Sunday.” 

What gentlemen ? ” 

Papa and his partner.” 

Must I go down, also ? ” 

Of course, you know well that I cannot do without 
you.” 

Aimee rose, and followed the young girl to the parlor, 
where Mr. Wallson, installed a V Americain^ in a great 
arm-chair, talked with a young man, standing near 
the fire. 

<^Mr. Douay,” said Maud, advancing and extending 
her hand to the new comer, permit me to introduce 
you to my companion.” And she added at once, with a 
gay burst of laughter, I see what you are thinking, but 
you are mistaken, it is the last time.” 

The young man responded gayly to her words, and 
turned to greet Aim4e, who had been looking at him 


142 


A HAPPY FIND. 


attentively. She had already seen that curly head, she 
had already heard that voice. She was sure of it. 

What woman was ever ungrateful enough to forget 
the features of the one who had protected her, rescued 
her from danger? She waited until he should recog- 
nize her in his turn. He was bowing gravely, when he 
stopped suddenly, motionless with surprise, but his hesi- 
tation did not last a second. 

I did not think,” said he, advancing, that I should 
so soon have the pleasure of seeing you again ; ” then he 
added, with a rather mischievous smilO;^ I hope you did 
not suffer from your journey.” 

No, thank you,” responded Aimee, blushing slightly. 
“ But,” cried Maud, do you know each other ? ” 

Our acquaintance is of very recent date. Miss Maud. 
I had the honor of travelling with this young lady, the 
day of her arrival at the Lindens.” 

The little lady frowned. 

That does not explain ” — 

Keally ? You will understand some day.” 

Some day ! As well say never. Why not now ? ” 
The young man, somewhat embarrassed, turned to- 
wards Aim4e, who rose under the pretext of going in 
search of the coffee. 

Now,” said Maud, as soon as the door was shut be- 
hind her, “ tell me quickly.” 

You are a true daughter of Eve, Miss Maud, you do 
not deserve to have your curiosity gratified. But for 


A MUTUAL RECOGNITION. 


143 


our common repose, and mine in particular, I had better 
obey.’’ And he had soon enlightened her upon what so 
greatly interested her. 

As he spoke, the little face, shadowed for a moment, 
cleared joyously ; at last she drew a sigh of relief. 

How glad I am ! ” murmured she. 

‘‘ Of what ? ” 

“ Oh ! I do not know ; nothing.” She turned away, a 
little embarrassed ; I could not understand how you 
had become acquainted so quickly, it is so unlike her.” 

At this moment Aimee entered, and Maud rose to 
pour out the coffee. 

‘^So,” said she, “you did not know that you would 
meet Mademoiselle Valrose, again, here ? There ! all 
your coffee on the carpet ! How nervous you are to-day. 
I believe that you are trembling.” 

“I beg your pardon,” said the young man, without 
turning, “ I have made a frightful stain.” 

“That is nothings” said Mr. Wallson, “pour out an- 
other cup, Maud.” 

The young girl obeyed, but not without a mischievous 
smile. 

“I advise you to seat yourself near the tray,” she 
said, “you might tremble again. There, now, I am 
more tranquil; but you have not answered my ques- 
tion.” 

“ Which one ? That wretched stain made me forget 
everything.” 


144 


A I/APPr FIND. 


I asked you — but, no, that does not interest me any 
more. Tell me of your journey to the Midi. Why did 
you come back so soon ? 

Because there was nothing to keep me.” 

What luck ! that enabled you to fall in with Aimee : 
but what I do not understand is, that you did not com- 
prehend she was coming here.” 

‘^You must excuse me, Miss Maud, but the arrivals 
and departures are so frequent, lately, that it is not 
surprising ” — 

You are as bad as papa and all the rest,” interrupted 
the young girl, I will not talk to you.” 

And she sat herself down near the fire, resolved not to 
open her lips for an indefinite period. 

The two gentlemen resumed their conversation, and 
Aimee seated herself near the window with a book. 

What are you reading that is so interesting ? ” cried 
Miss Maud, at the end of a minute ; “ since I have been 
looking at you, you have yawned three times ! ” 

A dissertation on names.” 

Good gracious ! I understand your interest.” 

“ The author pretends that all names ought to have 
some meaning.” 

The author is an idiot ; is he not ? ” 

‘‘ Did you speak to me, little girl ? ” asked Mr. Wall- 
son, breaking off his conversation. 

** No, papa, to Mr. Douay.” 

To me ? I beg your pardon, I thought ” — 


A MUTUAL BECOGNlTIOM. 


145 


“ Oh ! I know what you thought,” cried Maud, laugh- 
ing, that is all the same. Are you not of my opinion ? ” 

“ About what ? ” 

‘‘Is it not better that names should have no signi- 
fication ? ” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ Because then they cannot be in contradiction with 
the character. Have you never remarked that all the 
Blanches are brown as nuts, or red as cherries, that the 
Patiences have generally the gentleness of a volcano, 
that the Desirees are detestable, and so on ? ” 

The young man began to. laugh. 

“ Perhaps you are right,” said he, “ but there is no rule 
without an exception.” 

“Come, Aim^e, tell us your opinion, you have some 
acquaintance with the subject.” 

“ I am like you. I prefer names which have no signi- 
fication.” She, doubtless, remembered the days when 
her own name seemed a bitter irony. 

“ Bravo ! I was sure of it. So you do not like your 
own name ? ” 

Aimee hesitated a second. 

“ I like it,” said she, “ on account of those who gave 
it to me.” And as she raised her eyes, she met those of 
the young man, fixed upon her with an expression that 
she could not define, which left her perplexed and dis- 
countenanced. 

He perceived it, and turned away his head. 


146 ^ IIAFPY FlNl). 

’‘^Come, little girls/^ said Mr. Wallson, ^^give us a little 
music.’^ 

Aimee looked terrified. 

Do not be afraid,” murmured Maud, in her ear, but 
loud enough to be heard by every one. Mr. Douay is 
nearly as great a musician as papa ! he cannot for his 
life distinguish a true note from a false.” 

I know some one who strongly resembles me upon 
that point,” responded the young man, tranquilly rising 
and leaning against the chimney-piece. 

Maud was right ; the most outrageous discords did not 
seem to move him, or disturb his serenity. Once or twice 
even, and in the very worst moments, a very gentle smile 
lit up his face, and brightened his eyes. 

An exclamation from Maud broke the charm ab- 
ruptly. 

I am sure,” she exclaimed, that we shall not have 
the time to dress for dinner.” 

And with her habitual hrusquerie, she dropped the 
piano lid and ran out of the room. 

After dinner, each one sought to pass away the time 
as agreeably as possible. Aunt Lore took her knitting 
and her book, while her sisters played their eternal 
game of tric-trac. Mr. Wallson was absorbed in a paper, 
and his partner, with or without intention, sat down by 
Aimee, while Maud, seated upon the carpet, watched 
with a dreamy air the flames on the hearth, which lent 
a special glow to her pretty face. 


^ A MUTUAL RECOGNITION. 147 

must take Aimee to the factory one of these 
days, must we not, papa ? cried she, suddenly. 

What is it, little girl ? ” 

How tiresome ! you never hear what I say to you.” 

But Mr. Wallson was already absorbed in his reading 
again. 

Have you never visited glass works ? ” asked the 
young man, addressing himself to Aimee. 

‘‘No, never ; is it interesting ? ” 

“ Certainly ; ask Miss Maud, rather. When you 
come,” he added, “ I will show you all the changes I have 
had made in my own habitation.” 

“ Oh ! I hope that you have not touched it ; that would 
be a crime. Just think, Aimee, Mr. Douay has the luck 
to inhabit, all alone, an old castle.” 

“ An old ruin,” corrected the young man.” 

“ No, an old castle, with delightful round towers and 
battlements.” 

“ Bats’ nests, and all crumbling to pieces.” 

Maud shrugged her shoulders, and resumed: “And 
oriel windows hidden under the ivy which covers the 
walls, and a stone balcony, which would make the most 
prosaic dream — I cannot understand what embellish- 
ments you have added.” 

“ I simply allowed myself to clear the windows.” 

“Why?” 

Why ? To let the sunshine visit me, and keep me 
from rheumatism in my old age.” 


148 


4 ilxiPPY FIND. 


Maud made a disdainful grimace. 

“Men think always of rheumatism. They sacrifice 
everything to that hete noire.^^ 

“ Do you find that so astonishing ? 

“No, no, nothing astonishes me. I believe you are 
capable of cutting down the terrace trees, of tearing 
down the ivy, of whitewashing the walls, and of scratch- 
ing the moss from the balcony columns. Everything is 
possible, when it is a question of rheumatism.^’ 

Aim4e began to laugh, but the young man succeeded 
in keeping his gravity. 

“You are right,” said he, “one cannot make enough 
sacrifice for one’s health.” 

Maud did not answer, her indignation was too great 
for words. 

“ Does the factory employ many workmen ? ” asked 
Aim4e. 

“ The greater part of the male population near here ; 
there is work for all, even for the children. I am sure 
that you would find it interesting to see them at 
work.” 

“Aunt Lore,” interrupted Maud, “what are you 
doing ? ” 

“ I am reading, my dear child.” 

The young girl burst out laughing. 

“ I thought you were crying over your knitting.” 

“I am reading an elegy,” replied the little lady, in a 
moved voice. 


A MUTUAL RECOGNITION. 


149 


An elegy ? And that made you cry ? — Oh ! Aunt 
Lore, read it aloud, that would be so amusing.” 

''Elegies are never amusing, Maud, and this one is 
particularly touching.” 

" Whose is it, Dolores ? ” ’ . 

" I do not know, my dear Isa ; it is entitled, ' The Poor 
Girl.’ Aimee, my child, will you read it,” added the 
little lady, passing her the book. 

Aim4e protested with a look ; but as every one seemed 
waiting, the Misses Isabeau and Estelle had stopped 
their game, and Mr. Wallson had raised his head, she 
was forced to begin : 

J’aifui cepenible sommeil 
Qu’aucun songe heureux n^accompagnef 
J’ai devance sur la montagne 
Les premiers rayons dusoleil. 

S'eveillant avec la nature, 

Lejeune oiseau chantait sixr Vauhepine enfleurs. 

Sa m^re lui portait sa douce nourriture, — 

Mes yeux se sont mouilles de pleurs. 

Oh I pourquoi n^ai-je pas de mere ? 

Pourquoi ne suis-jepas semblable unjeune oiseau 
Lont le nidse balance aux branches de Vormeau? 

Rien ne m’appartient sur la terre, 

Je n’aipas meme de berceau, 

Etje suis une enfant trouvee sur unepierre, 

Levant Veglise du hameau. 

Loin de mes parents'^ — 

1 I have fled from this painful slumber 
That no happy dream accompanies; 

I have reached the mountain 
• Before the first sunbeams shone there, 


150 


A UAPPY FIND. 


Aim^e broke off the reading, and closed the book. 

^^But that is not all, my child j there are two stanzas 
more,^^ said Mademoiselle Lore. 

I cannot read any more.’’ 

The eyes of all but one in the room were fastened upon 
her. 

You have a sore throat, I am sure of it,” cried Ma- 
demoiselle Estelle. It seemed to me that your voice 
was not clear.” 

The poor child shook her head. 

“ Such childishness is out of place,” said Mademoiselle 
Isabeau, dryly. Then she added, in her most gracious 
tone : Mr. Douay, will you be good enough to finish it ? ” 

The young man raised his head and stopped twisting 
his mustache. ^ 

I ? Oh ! no, thank you,” and taking the book, he 
quietly shut and returned it. 

“ It is a pity,” sighed she, the young people of these 


Waking as nature awoke. 

The young bird sang on the flowery hawthorn 
Its mother carried it sweet nourishment, — 

My eyes are wet with tears. 

Oh ! why have I no mother ? 

Why am I not a young bird 

Whose nest hangs in the young elm’s branches? 

Nothing belongs to me on earth, 

I have not even a cradle, 

And I am an infant found upon a stone, 

Before the church in the hamlet. 


Far from my parents— 


A MUTUAL BECOGNITION. 151 

days entirely lack ease and simplicity. That elegy is 
Soumet’s ; it is one of the prettiest of its kind.’’ 

I detest it,” cried Maud ; in the first place, because 
it has made us all cross, and then because it is so fright- 
fully melancholy ; fortunately, it is not true.” 

If it is not for any of us, it is certainly so for some 
people, my child.” 

I hope not. Aunt Isa, it would be too dreadful.” 

No one answered her. The young man had risen, and 
was walking to the end of the room. Mr. Wallson had 
resumed his reading, and Aimee sat motionless, her head 
leaning on her hand, neither seeing nor hearing what 
was going on around her ; feeling only one thing, which, 
in all its bitterness, burned her heart like a hot iron. 

Fortunately for every one, the door opened suddenly, 
and Mr. Douay’s carriage was announced. As soon as 
he was gone, the young girls followed his example, and 
went up to their rooms. 

Do you like him, Aim^e ? ” 

«Whom?” 

^^Mr. Douay.” 

I do not know, yet.” 

^^Did you notice how he looked at you ? I believe he 
would have liked to kill Aunt Isa. He is the best fellow 
in the world.” 

Because he wanted to kill Mademoiselle Isabeau ? ” 
And Aimde laughed, but rather bitterly. 

No, no, don’t laugh j I know him. He was pale with 


152 


A HAPPY FIND, 


indignation ; I know that he cannot bear injustice, and 
Aunt Isa was unjust.’’ 

Not quite, for she must have thought me stupid and 
stubborn.” 

Well, I know some one who thinks you neither, I am 
sure of it. You cannot know,” continued she, sinking 
upon a sofa, how our life is changed now. Papa is not 
the same person, since he has given him the charge of 
the factory, and as for the factory, it is a real blessing. 
Perhaps you think,” added she with animation ; “ that 
the workrooms once closed, he rests, and crosses his 
arms. Well, no, he has thought of arranging rooms, 
even in the factory, where the workmen can spend their 
winter evenings in reading and playing; and there he 
spends the greater part of his time, not for his pleasure, 
as you can understand, but in order to maintain order and 
discipline. Sometimes he lectures to them, and that is 
the way he tries to teach them and get them interested. 
He used to busy himself after that fashion in America, 
in his father’s great works; but, you see, he was not 
obliged to do it here, no one asked it of him ; it was of 
his own accord that he undertook the task, and only for 
the love of humanity. So you can understand how he is 
loved, not only by the workmen, but, above all, by their 
wives, who cannot tell him often enough how happy 
they are, and how much better treated since their 
husbands do not pass their evenings drinking in the 
taverns. You see that I was right when I said that he 


A MUTUAL RECOGNITION. 


153 


was the best fellow in the world ; but I had no need of 
telling you, you would soon have discovered it. Now, 
I am going to bed, I have exhausted all my eloquence. 
Good night, my darling, and above all, do not dream of 
Aunt Isa, nor of that frightful elegy.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 

Hardly had Aim^e returned to her own room, after 
breakfast, the next day, when her door was suddenly 
opened, and Maud threw herself upon the sofa, in a 
paroxysm of gayety. 

Do not look at me in that astonished way, Aim^e,” 
said she, you will kill me.’’ Then recovering her grav- 
ity, You must go down ! the doctor is waiting for you ; 
Aunt Estelle sent to inform him that you suddenly 
stopped in the midst of your reading, and he has come 
to see with his own eyes what could have caused such 
an accident.” 

Aim4e shrugged her shoulders. 

That is absurd,” said she, I shall not go.” 

Maud began to laugh most heartily. 

I advise in this instance, but in this instance only, you 
to submit as gracefully as you can. The doctor and I 
are intimate friends, and we talk of everything in the 
world, except sickness. He has known my aunts a long 
time, and calls them by their Christian names. He at- 
tended their mother and mine, that is why he comes to 
see us so often.” 

Not quite reassured, Aimee allowed herself to be con- 
154 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. I55 

ducted to the little parlor, where the doctor and 
Mademoiselle Estelle were holding a council. 

Here is your new patient, doctor,’’ said Maud, as they 
entered. I fear she is as seriously ill as I am.” 

“ In that case,” responded a round little man, with a 
jovial face, and head as bare and polished as a mirror, “I 
have only to congratulate her.” 

With these words he held out his hand to the young 
girls, and drew Aimee to the window. 

Do not be afraid,” said he, your sore throat cannot 
be serious.” 

“ But I have no sore throat.” 

“ Are you sure of it ? ” 

Quite.” 

But I was told ” — 

It is a mistake, I am in perfect health.” 

Have you a good appetite ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“No palpitation ? ” 

“ Never, without a reason.” 

“ In going upstairs ? ” 

“No.” 

“ No caprices ? ” 

“I do not understand. I do not think that is my 
defect, though it might seem so.” 

“ 0 ! that is not my business,” said the doctor, smiling, 
“ I mean caprices as regards your appetite.” 

“ No, I think not, I do not know,” 


156 


A HAPPY FIND, 


Well, well ; no fever, no organic disorders, a good 
appetite ! one cannot ask for more.” 

Mademoiselle — what is your name ? ” 

“ Aimee Valrose.” 

'^Mademoiselle Aimee is in perfect health. Aunt 
Estelle. Make her take long walks, to put a little color 
in her cheeks, that is all she needs. And Diablotin ? 
what has she to say for herself to-day ? ” 

"Nothing, doctor,” said Maud, who knew that this 
pretty nickname was addressed to her. 

Aimee approached the door, and was about to open it, 
when the doctor called her back. 

" Ah ! Mademoiselle Aimee, that is treason ; one never 
parts from one’s doctor without a salutation.” 

Aimde held out her hand and fled. 

" Where did you get hold of that pair of eyes. Aunt 
Estelle ? ” 

"Edwin discovered her by means of an advertise- 
ment.” 

" When does she leave ? ” 

"Doctor, you are naughty.” 

" Why, Diablotin ? ” 

"You know as well as I; but this time you are well 
caught, — Aimee is never going to leave us.” 

"Ah!” — 

"You are not convinced ? ” 

" Yes, yes ; but how did she manage to And mercy ? ” 

" I am not sure that she has found mercy in Aunt Isa’s 


TBE DOCTOtt AND THE OGEE. I57 

eyes, but I am not afraid ; papa and I are leagued against 
her, and that is sufficient.’’ 

The doctor burst out laughing. 

Oh, these little Americans, how they talk ! how 
they manage old and young ! And of whom are you 
afraid ? ” 

‘‘ Not of you, doctor.” 

Oh, as for that I am sure of it ; you do not need to 
tell me. Now I must go. Adieu, little American. I 
hope your new friend will influence you, since she is 
going to spend her life with you.” 

Are you in such a hurry, doctor ? ” 

“Yes, Aunt Estelle; that is, unless you need me. I 
have promised to return to breakfast with my old friend, 
and I have still some calls to make.” 

“ Is he as wicked as ever ? ” 

“You have still no pity for him, Diablotin ? ” said the 
doctor, in a half-serious, half-comic tone ; come, is a 
nettle wicked because it stings when one touches it ? 
My old friend is like a nettle ; if one just touches him, he 
stings; but if one clasps him bravely, the stings hide 
themselves, and he hurts no one.” 

“I prefer to believe it rather than try the experi- 
ment.” 

“You are a little goose, Diablotin, not to have dis- 
covered that my nettle is incapable of hurting any one, 
even a fly. Adieu, I must run away, I shall be late.” 

“ Adieu, doctor,* for a short time.” 


158 


A HAPPY FINP. 


A few days after, as Aimee reached the end of the 
little park, where she went for a daily walk while Maud 
was resting, it occurred to her to glance through the gate 
of their terrible neighbor. But she had hardly ap- 
proached it, when a rough voice cried from behind a 
shrub, — 

What are you doing here ? ’’ 

She sprang back, and was about to run away, when a 
gay laugh was heard near her, and a fat hand was held 
out to her through the gate. 

“ 0 doctor, how you frightened me ! let me go,’’ 
added she, trying to withdraw her hand. I am really 
afraid that he will come.” 

He ? Who ? One would say that you spoke of an 
ogre in a fable. Mademoiselle Aimee. And even if he 
came, do you think he would eat you ? ” 

With this the doctor opened the gate, and invited the 
young girl to enter. 

No thank you, I dare not, I only came to see if the 
beds were yet planted in flowers.” 

^^It is too early; they would be in danger of frost. 
Do you like flowers ? Will you not come with me to 
see the conservatories ? you will risk nothing, the ogre 
is taking his midday nap.” 

Aimee hesitated. 

Are you sure of it, doctor ? ” 

Am I sure of it ? I have just left him. And your 
throat, how is it ? ” 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 


159 


As bad as ever.” 

“Well, well, that pleases me. Come, it is this way, 
but what is the matter ? I really believe that you are 
holding your breath.” 

“ But if he should come out, doctor ? ” 

“ Why, I told you that he was sleeping ; besides, if he 
sees you, it will be nothing. He will turn his back, that 
is all.” 

“ Why does he dislike everybody ? ” 

“Who told you that? It is that little goose, I am 
sure of it ; she is convinced that the poor old fellow is 
Bluebeard himself.” 

“ But why does he live all alone ? ” 

“ Because he likes it. It is his whim ; every one has 
one. Bor a long time he has had a prejudice against his 
fellow-men and, with avoiding them, he has come to be 
afraid of them, and of women in particular, because 
they are the cause of all out sorrows, you know.” 

“ I think it would be better for me to go.” 

The doctor held her by the arm. 

“ Why ! you are almost as silly as your friend. There 
are the conservatories,” and he pointed out a line of 
buildings with glass roofs. “ Do not say anything until 
you are inside. Those conservatories are one of his 
hobbies ; he loves his flowers better than living beings, 
he speaks to them, he cares for them, one might say he 
petted them.” 

“ I did not know that you lived with him, doctor.” 


160 


A HAPPY FIND. 


And I do not. Have you not seen on the right, that 
affair which resembles a porter’s lodge ? That is where 
I live ; it is not very large, but it is large enough for an 
old bachelor who is never at home. I rented that little 
place to be near the ogre, with whom I take my meals, 
and spend my evenings, when I am not summoned else- 
where.” 

While talking, Aimee and her conductor had reached 
the conservatories, and walked into the first compart- 
ment, which they slowly examined in mute admiration. 

Great camelias, with gigantic stems, extended their 
branches, loaded with white, pink, and spotted flowers, 
while, beneath them, younger plants raised their dazzling 
petals towards their elders, and seemed silently to vie 
with them in their splendor. 

Aimee pursued her way as in a dream, breathing the 
intoxicating perfume of the flowers, hardly knowing if 
what she saw was real, or the work of her imagination, 
and believing herself, at least, transported to tropical 
regions, which displayed their incomparable riches 
expressly for her. 

“ Are you sorry that you came ? ” 

Oh ! no, no ! I have never seen anything so beautiful.” 
have no doubt of it; you would have to go far 
enough before you found anything like it. Come, now I 
will show you the glory of St. Kock,” continued the 
doctor, opening the door of the last compartment, ‘^but 
we can only stay here a moment, because the orange 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE, 


161 


trees are in bloom. See, has that not the appearance of 
a great bridal bouquet ? After the season of flowers, 
we often pass our evenings here. Will you sit down ? 

^‘No, thank you, I am not tired.” 

“ Then come, you had better not stay, this perfume 
will give you a headache.” 

Aimee looked longingly around, and breathed a sigh 
of regret. She was about to cross the threshold, when 
she checked herself abruptly. 

“ Some one is coming,” said she, I hear a step, I am 
sure of it.” 

^^It is one of the gardeners,” answered the doctor 
^ Why, you are quite pale, you little coward.” 

^Wh! Where are you hiding yourself?” cried a 
^scolding voice. “I have been looking for you for an 
hour.” 

At the same instant, the rather wizened and bent 
figure of the old man, whom she had once seen, appeared 
at the end of the compartment. At the sight of the 
young girl, at first hidden behind the doctor, he started 
as if he had been stung, and was about to turn away, 
when his friend stopped him. 

“ I thought you were having a nap,” said he, and I 
was improving the time by showing Mademoiselle Valrose 
the conservatories ; she has not the happiness to possess 
any, though she loves flowers as you do.” 

The old man turned, rather unwillingly, and awk- 
wardly lifted his hand to his velvet cap. Aim^e ad- 


162 


A BAPPY FIND. 


vanced, and, hardly knowing what she did, like a bird 
which lets itself drop into the serpent^s mouth, held out 
her hand to the old man, who appeared frightened at 
first, and hardly touched that little hand, whose touch, 
light as it was, seemed to cause him a strange sensation, 
as if some one had pressed his throat. 

^^Mademoiselle Valrose lives at the Lindens,’’ resumed 
the doctor, in order to say something. 

The old man glanced at Aimee, and muttered some 
unintelligible words, to which the doctor answered with 
a burst of laughter. 

^^Mademoiselle Aimee, Mr. St. Eock asks if you are 
the new victim.” 

Aimee blushed. 

am Miss Wallson’s companion.” 

This time the old man looked closely at her. 

“ It is the same thing,” said he. 

‘^No, I think not,” responded she, surprised herself at 
her own audacity. 

The doctor laughed again, while his friend lifted his 
heavy eyebrows with a somewhat astonished air. They 
resumed their walk, Aimee the first, she having only 
one desire, — to leave the conservatories as soon as 
possible. The two gentlemen followed her slowly, talk- 
ing in a low voice. 

‘^He is furious,” thought she, <^the doctor will pay 
dear for this complaisance. If only I had not listened 
to him; if I had not had the silly idea of looking 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 


16 B 


through the gate. I will never come near it again, 
never, notwithstanding all Maud may say to persuade 
me.’’ 

Here she was interrupted by a hand which pulled her 
dress, brusquely. She almost cried out. 

There ! he said that you liked them.” And the old 
man placed in her hand a bouquet, such as she had 
never seen, neither in dreams nor reality. 

She stood motionless a moment, then her long lashes, 
dropped upon the flowers, were raised upon the old man. 

You are too good,” murmured she. 

Do not ever repeat such a falsehood,” said he, in a 
gruff voice. 

At this moment they left the conservatories, and 
Aimee, followed by the doctor, went towards the gate, 
while the old man disappeared by another path. 

After all,” said the physician, with a mischievous 
smile, and look at her bouquet, the ogre has not been so 
dreadful, and you are still whole.” 

Aimee made a sign in the affirmative. 

Is he very angry with you ? ” asked she, after a 
moment. 

I will tell you at your next visit.” 

‘^In that case, I shall never know. Adieu, doctor, 
thank you.” She held out her hand to him, and ran up 
the path which led to the park. 

How,” murmured the doctor, shutting the gate, I 
will go and find out ” — 


164 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Where in the world have you been ? I have been 
waiting for you for a half hour/’ cried Maud, perceiv- 
ing her friend from the window, behind which she had 
waited a minute, at the most. 

In four steps Aimee was by her side, and exhibiting 
all her wealth. 

Where did you find that ? I have never seen any- 
thing like it, except in St. Kock’s beds, but that is 
impossible.” 

Impossible is not French.” 

“You do not mean — Surely you have not dared to 
take them ? ” 

Aimee laughed gay ly. 

“ Take them ! Oh ! no, that is against my principles, 
he gave me them, himself.” 

“ He ? Who ? ” asked Maud, astounded. 

“Mr. St. Kock, your bke-noir.” 

“I will never believe it.” 

“ Then you may ask the doctor, that will teach you to 
doubt my word ; meanwhile, we will divide.” 

“No, no, those fiowers are yours.” 

“ Certainly, that is why I am giving you half.” 

And, while she divided her bouquet, Aimee narrated 
to the astonished Maud, her visit to the conservatories, 
and her meeting with the terrible old man. 

“Now, what shall we do ? ” 

“Oh! I forgot,” cried Maud, “you made me forget 
myself. The carriage is to take us to the works, and 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 165 

Aunt Lore will go with us, because Aunt Isa has a head- 
ache, and Aunt Estelle has to remain to nurse her. You 
see,” she added, with her eyes shining with mischief, 

that pleasures are like sorrows, they never come alone.” 

Aimee could not help laughing, and ran off to her 
room. 

^‘You do not need to make an elaborate toilette,” 
cried Maud, “you will always be the prettiest, in no 
matter what costume.” 

A quarter of an hour later, the carriage drove away, 
with a very gay and animated little party, which did not 
in the least resemble the grave and distinguished ladies 
it bore daily. 

“ What a pity,” said Maud, suddenly, “ that Aunt Isa 
has not a headache a little oftener, is it not. Aunt 
Lore ? ” 

“ But, my dear child, what are you saying ? ” 

“Only what I was thinking. Aunt Lore, — is it not 
delightful for us three to be alone ? ” 

“Certainly, but you ought not to forget that your 
aunt suffers a great deal.” 

“ That is a pity. I sincerely wish that her headaches 
were less painful, but more frequent.” 

“ Hush, my little girl.” 

“Ho, Aunt Lore, I will talk to-day. Tell me why 
you are so unlike Aunt Isa.” 

“ I do not know. My sister has always been infinitely 
superior to me.” 


166 


A HAPPY FIND. 


The little mischief burst out laughing. 

^^But, Aunt Lore, what nonsense! You are much 
prettier and nicer than Aunt Isa, and I love you a 
million times better. And Aimee, also, she has told 
me so. You do not know how pretty you are in that 
costume. How could we manage to go together every 
day ? 

^^No, my child, no! do not say such a thing; your 
aunt would be so hurt.^' 

Do you think so ? I have a great mind to propose 
it to her.’^ 

Maud, my child, promise me — the little lady was 
pale with fright. 

“Anything you like. Aunt Lore, but only to please 
you, and because I love you.’’ 

“Well, well, my darling, I know I can depend upon 
your word. There are the factory chimneys; do you 
see them, Aimee?” added she, to turn the conver- 
sation. 

The young girl turned, and Maud began to recount all 
the improvements her father and his partner had brought 
about in the factory. 

At last the carriage stopped, and the three ladies went 
to Mr. Wallson’s office. 

“ Guess who has come to see you, papa,” cried Maud, 
entering. 

“ That is truly rather difficult,” answered her father, 
gayly, returning her caress. 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 


167 


Oh ! you are not — Ah ! I knew that you would be 
agreeably surprised,” continued she, as Mademoiselle 
Lore made her appearance, followed by Aimee. 

think,” said Mr. Wallson, turning towards the 
young girls, ^Hhat Douay could show you the factory, 
he must be in his office.” 

^^Will you come, Aimee?” asked Maud, moving 
towards the door. 

At the sound of the light steps and gay voices ap- 
proaching, the young man’s head, bent over an enormous 
folio, was raised quickly, and his eyes shone with pleas- 
ure. He came to meet his young visitors, and shook 
hands, warmly. 

^^We have come to see the'factory,” said Maud, ^^have 
you time to show us around ? ” 

« Have I ever failed to have the time to serve you, 
Miss Maud ? But will you not sit down ? ” 

“ No, thank you, we are not tired.” 

The young man then proceeded to conduct his visitors 
through the numerous branches of the factory. 

^‘Does it not resemble an ant-hill ? ” asked he turning 
towards Aimee, who had stopped, and was looking with 
astonishment at the moving crowd, coming and going, 
passing and repassing, like real ants. 

Quite, but this heat is almost unendurable ; I wonder 
how these poor people can stand it all the days of their 
lives. Do they not suffer much ? ” 

<^At first, yes; but they soon become accustomed to 


168 


A HAPPY FIND, 


it; nevertheless, to tell the truth, they cannot bear it 
for many years/’ 

“ What do they do, then ? ” 

We employ them otherwise ; you have only seen the 
places where the glass is melted, it is not the largest 
part ; there remains the cutting, engraving, packing, etc. 
Are you tired ? ” 

No, not at all.” 

Well, come this way.” 

“ Mr. Douay, you will show us the reading and play- 
rooms ? ” 

“ Certainly, if you wish it.” 

Is it true that you teach the most ignorant to read 
and write, as papa said ? ” 

“ Why not ? ” 

Aimee could not believe it.” 

I ? I said nothing of the sort.” 

^^No, but I saw it in your face.” 

I believe you see in my face just what pleases you,” 
said Aimee, laughing. 

The young man looked at her, and smiled. 

At the end of an hour, the three came out of the 
factory, talking as gayly as if they had been old 
friends. 

“Now, to please Miss Maud, I will show you my bat’s- 
nest. Come, it is only a few steps, at the foot of that 
hill.” 

“Why, it is charming,” cried Aimee, seeing from a 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 109 

group of trees, the crenelated towers for which Maud 
had professed so great an admiration. 

Wait before you judge/’ said the young man, gayly ; 
^^you only see the screen which hides the holes.” 

“He tells you that just to tease me,” added Maud; 
“if he had not found it to his taste, that ruin, as he 
calls it, do you think that he would have bought it ? 
And just think ! he had the luck to get it for almost 
nothing, because they pretend that it is haunted. It is 
centuries since it was occupied.” 

“Would one not believe, to hear Miss Maud, that I 
had received this antediluvian habitation as a gift ? 
Ah ! there is our baby ! ” he added, seeing a small boy 
of three or four years old, who came and threw himself 
into his arms, screaming with joy at feeling himself 
tossed in the air. 

“ There, now, that is enough ! go and tell grandmother 
that Mr. Douay has visitors, and that she must send us 
something nice.” 

But instead of obeying, the small child held out its 
tiny arms. 

“Again,” murmured he, in a pleading tone. 

The young man laughed, tossed the child a second time 
in the air, seated him like a victor upon his shoulder, 
and turned towards Aimee. 

“ This is one of my housekeeper’s grandchildren,” said 
he, “ the eldest is already employed in the factory ; this 
one is to be my valet. Won’t you, my little man ? ” 


170 


A JIAFPr FIND. 


For all answer the small one belabored the shoulder 
of his bearer with his tiny feet. 

I always remember my first occupation/’ resumed 
the young man, laughing, ^^and children feel it quickly, 
they are sharper than we think.” 

Have you often carried your brothers and sisters ? ” 
asked Aimee, rather puzzled at that explanation. 

^^Yes, and others also;” he smiled and turned away 
his head. ^^Now, go and carry my message to grand- 
mother,” said he, setting down the child, as they came 
into a kind of paved courtyard, around which rose the 
old building whose merits had already been so strongly 
discussed. 

“ I will show you all the marvels of my antediluvian 
gift,” said the young man, introducing his visitors into 
a charming little room, ‘^but, first, you must rest 
awhile.” 

With these words he went out, to return immediately, 
followed by a woman bearing a waiter of refreshments. 

Would you believe,” said he, lowering his voice, as 
soon as she had retired, the good creature was so well 
persuaded that ghosts haunted these ruins, that she would 
not pass the night under this roof until I had myself 
spent a month here ; she went away every evening, under 
some pretext, and abandoned me pitilessly to the spirits. 
Now, she pretends to have forgotten all, and laughs at 
those who are still frightened.” 

As for me, I do not understand why you were not 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 171 

frightened to death, the first night,’’ said Maud; 
remember that I was so uneasy, I could not sleep.” 

It was too good of you. Miss Maud, for I never had 
a thought of your ladyship that night. AjoropoSj I 
received a letter this morning, which concerns you.” 

Maud’s cheeks fiushed quickly. 

Oh ! let me see it, please.” 

Always the same daughter of Eve. Take care. Miss 
Maud.” 

Thus saying, the young man drew a letter from his 
pocket, and held it out to her. 

During this time, Aimee had left her place, and 
approached some well-filled bookshelves, whose contents 
she began to examine. 

Now, that is strange,” thought she, there is a French 
Bible,” and she extended her hand to take a small 
volume in brown leather, which bore marks of frequent 
use. 

Those are my books of study, and some volumes of 
poetry,” said a voice near her. 

“ No, not that.” 

“ 0 no, that is my French Bible,” and he took it in his 
hand rather quickly. I was speaking of the other 
books. Do you read English ? ” 

Less than ever, now. I have promised to read only 
French.” 

Even when you are alone ? ” 

“ 0 no, but I do not have much time alone.” 


172 


A HAPPY FIND. 


I do not doubt that,’’ and he glanced significantly at 
Maud; ‘‘will you come and see the tower, while Miss 
Maud reads my mother’s letter ? ” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

And she followed him out of the little room, up a 
narrow and dark spiral stairway, which he mounted as 
easily as if he saw the way. 

“ It is a little dark,” said he, “ but habit takes the 
place of many things, even of sight. Where are you ? 
Give me your hand, here is a bad step ; well, here we 
are.” 

And he stepped out by a narrow opening upon a little 
platform, with tiny walls, considerably worn by time. 

“What do you think of this view ? ” 

Aimee looked around, and, raising her eyes upon her 
questioner, — 

“Not much,” said she, and she added at once, as if 
to excuse herself, “perhaps I shall be better able to 
appreciate it, soon.” 

He smiled. 

“ So you find this corner of the earth as ugly as when 
you arrived ? ” 

“ Oh, no, but you know, I have lived in the Midi, and I 
cannot help making comparisons. When one has always 
lived by the sea, one must miss it everywhere ; even the 
color of the sky is different, and the foliage of the 
almond trees is like no other tree ; but,” she hesitated, 
“you know it is not the beauty of a place which makes 


THE DOCTOR AND THE OGRE. 17S 

one happy, and I know now that one can be very happy 
or very unhappy anywhere.” 

He would have liked to know what constituted happi- 
ness in her eyes, but contented himself by asking if she 
had good news from her friends in the Midi. 

Since Aunt Martha died, no one writes to me ; but, 
that does not mean that I have no friends,” she replied, 
gayly, “only the greater number cannot even write.” 

“ Shall you be glad to see them, again ? ” 

“ O yes ! certainly, but I am waiting very patiently.” 

“I thought you were devoured with a desire to go 
back to your home ? ” ^ 

“ I am a little ashamed to acknowledge that I desire 
it less ardently. I am so happy here ! ” 

The young man looked at her with a bright smile. 

“ That recalls to me exactly what I felt myself,” said 
he, “I thought at first that I could never reconcile my- 
self to my new existence, and I find now, that, on the 
contrary, it would cost me much to give it up.” 

“Are you already thinking of going back to America ? ” 

“ Ho, certainly not ; some time, perhaps, but have you 
never had a desire to visit the new world ? ” 

“ I ? Why ? Even if I had any friends or acquain- 
tances ” — she stopped short. 

“Well?” 

She blushed with an embarrassed air, then, seeing that 
he waited, she added, — 

“ I have a friend in America, I forgot, but as I was 


174 


A HAPPY FIND. 


hardly more than five years old when he left, and I do 
not even know his family name, it would not be easy to 
find him.’^ 

Have you never had any news of him ? ” 

0 yes ! many times, but Aunt Martha did not like 
writing, and so the correspondence died out.’^ 

Perhaps he is dead.’^ 

Oh ! I hope not ! he was so good ; I hardly remember 
him, but Aunt Martha spoke of him, often.’^ 

Would you not like to see him again ? 

1 do not know, I think not. I would rather remem- 
ber him as he was at the age of twelve or thirteen. 
Think how he must be changed now; besides, I have 
not the least hope of seeing him again, and I am sure 
that he has long since forgotten my existence.” 

Why, you remember him well.” 

^^Oh! that is very different; women have better 
memories than men,” said she, laughing. 

Do you think so ? ” He looked at her with a singu- 
larly incredulous look, and proposed to show her the 
other curiosities of his habitation. 

The return home was as gay as the departure, though 
Maud, contrary to her usual habits, was sometimes a 
little dreamy. Between Mademoiselle Lore and Aimee, 
the conversation did not flag for an instant. 


CHAPTEK XVIII. 


MINISTERING. 

Days and weeks succeeded, and Aimee, to her great 
astonishment, found herself desiring earnestly that they 
might roll away with less rapidity. 

She did not desire now to be free that she might 
return to live at the abbey. That moment did not now 
appear to her so full of joyous promise, and yet, she 
knew it would surely come ; that, some day, it would be 
necessary to say adieu to all the comfort which sur- 
rounded her, and to those who loved her. It would be 
necessary, whether she wished it or not, to leave this 
little company, which had so generously given her a 
place in their affections, and which she loved with all 
the strength of her being; she would have to leave 
Aunt Lore, always so good and gentle; Mr. Wallson, 
also, who had treated her as a favorite and dearly-loved 
child ; it would be necessary to say adieu to their Sun- 
day visitor, that visitor who had long since become 
the daily companion of their evenings, and whom she 
had learned, as Maud had predicted, to love and ap- 
preciate. 

It is so sweet, when one is young and full of enthu- 
siasm, to meet, to learn to love and esteem, one with a 
175 


176 


A JIAPPY FIND. 


good and noble heart, who does good because he cannot 
do otherwise, because it is his nature. * 

It is so sweet, when one is young, to meet and admire 
a fine intellect, which knows how to employ the best 
part of its faculties in the service of the good, and 
whose heart beats in unison with ours in the love of all 
that is noble and great. And it would be necessary to 
say adieu to him also, to go away to a solitary life, with 
its memories only. 

At that thought, Aimee’s heart was wrung ; she 
thought, sometimes, that it would have been better 
if she had never come to the Lindens ; she would have 
wished that her heart had been closed to all these new 
affections, since soon they would be sufferings; for 
what is our love for the absent ? Onlj^ a daily suffer- 
ing, an intense and appeaseless thirst. 

The summer had come, the summer with its long days 
of burning sunshine, with the debilitating heat which 
takes from us even the desire of life, with the storms 
which make hearts heavy as well as the atmosphere. 
Maud, the joyous Maud, herself felt this change of 
temperature. Like the birds which peopled the park 
trees, she kept silent during the day, and waited until 
the last ray of sunlight had disappeared, and the 
parched earth was a little refreshed. Then, only, she 
came back to life, and her joyous song mingled itself 
with the thousand voices from the forest, celebrating 
the sweetness of a summer night. 


MINISTERING. 


177 


One afternoon, as Aim6e tried in vain to follow Maudes 
example, and find in sleep forgetfulness of everything, 
even of the heat, her door opened gently, and Aunt 
Lore’s face looked in, pale and uneasy. 

^^Aimee, my child, I am in great perplexity, an acci- 
dent has happened at the factory, and the doctor ” — 

“ An accident,” interrupted Aimee, turning pale, “ to 
whom ? ” 

Oh ! my dear, it is frightful ; but it happens very 
often ; above all, to new workmen.” 

Aimee breathed again. 

The doctor wished to take me, but I have not the 
courage,” added Aunt Lore, pressing her hands nervously, 
one against the other. “ Estelle always goes with him, 
she alone is capable of supporting the sight of those 
terrible burns ; but to-day she is not well, and if I wake 
her, she might have one of her bad attacks ; that is why 
I thought that you might, — that you would consent, 
perhaps, to accompany the doctor. Tell me, my child, 
will you ? ” 

Aimee looked stunned. 

I am perfectly willing,” said she,’at last, ^^but I am 
so ignorant, that I fear I should be of no use.” 

Oh ! that is nothing ; you have only to do what he 
tells you. I will go and tell him that you are coming.” 

And Mademoiselle Lore, much relieved, disappeared 
in haste. A moment later, Aimee rejoined her in the 
parlor. 


178 


A HAPPY FINi). 


How quickly you are ready ! ’’ cried Mademoiselle 
Lore. 

“ It is a good thing for nurses to know how to dress 
themselves in so short a time/^ said the doctor, shaking 
her hand. Now let us go, the carriage is waiting.^^ 
But, doctor,^^ said Aimee, I fear I cannot be useful 
to you. I have never in my life dressed a burn.^' 

That is nothing, provided that you are not afraid, 
and that you will be obedient. That is all that I ask.” 

“ I am not afraid,” responded Aimee, who felt herself 
upon the point of giving way. 

“ Adieu, Lore ; tell Estelle that it is not my fault if I 
have changed nurses. Come, my child.” 

The carriage vanished, and the little lady re-entered 
the house, and waited impatiently the awakening of her 
sisters and niece. 

The afternoon was long for poor Maud, who had lost 
the habit of remaining alone with her aunts. She wan- 
dered from one room to another, with deep sighs, which 
made Mademoiselle Isabeau smile with pity, took a 
book, went to the piano, then returned to the window, in 
the hope of hearing the noise of the carriage. But the 
sun set, the night came, and no one returned. 

Men have no delicacy,” said Mademoiselle Isabeau. 
“ Edwin ought to understand that I am uneasy, he ought 
to know me well enough to know that it is my sensitive- 
ness alone which prevents me from aiding those unhappy 


MINISTERING. 179 

workmen; but, men have no sensibility, and, conse- 
quently, cannot comprehend ours.’’ 

At the same instant, and as if to contradict her words, 
a servant entered with a message from Mr. Wallson, who 
begged his sisters-in-law not to expect him or Aimde that 
night. He added, that they hoped to save the lives of 
the wounded, but that their sufferings were great. 

At those words, Maud’s eyes filled with tears ; she 
could not hear suffering spoken of without suffering 
herself ; perhaps, also, she pitied herself, for it was no 
little thing for her, this prospect of another day without 
Aimee. 

It was late the next day when the sound of the carriage 
was heard. Maud sprang to meet it. 

“ Well, little goose,” cried the doctor, ^^here I am.” 

And Aimee ? ” 

‘^They kept her at the factory, where she is much 
more useful than here.” 

Maud was in consternation. 

“ No, it is not true,” cried a voice inside, and the next 
moment Maud aided Aimee to descend from the carriage. 

Well, Diablotin, are you satisfied with me ? I bring 
her back whole, but they did not want to give her up, 
and without me, she would have passed a second sleepless 
night. This Douay is a great villain, look out for him ; 
he is a robber.” 

Maud shrugged her shoulders, and Aimee ran off 
towards the house. 


180 


A ilAPPY find. 


‘‘Will you not come in, doctor. ? 

“No, I am going to sleep, and you will do well to let 
your friend do as much. Do you hear ? No conversa- 
tion this evening.’’ 

“ When will papa come back ? ” 

“ To-morrow, probably ; do not be uneasy, he slept all 
night.” 

“ Adieu, doctor, but now, who is nursing the sick ? ” 

“A nurse that we got from Lyons. 

The carriage started, and Maud ran to Aimee’s room. 

“Tell me all, darling, tell me all. Was it very 
horrible ? You are so pale, still.” 

“ I am a little tired. Yes, it was frightful; above all, 
the despair of the women and children. The doctor 
made them go away the first thing, and we remained . 
alone with Mr. Douay and his housekeeper, whose grand- 
son is very sick. We hope that all will get well, though 
one cannot tell before a week ; I hear their groans still, 
it seems to me that they will follow me always.” 

“ How did it happen ? ” 

“ I do not know the details, I only know that the 
accident is due to the imprudence and awkwardness of 
one of the firemen.” 

“ Did Mr. Douay remain all night ? ” 

“Almost, but the doctor sent him to rest towards 
morning.” 

“ And papa ? ” 

“ They did not let him sit up.” 


MINISTERING. 


181 


Was he surprised to see you ? 

“Mr. Wallson ? 

“ No, Mr. Douay ? ” 

“I do not know, he had too much to do, to be 
astonished.’’ 

“ What did he look like ? ” 

“ Very grave and uneasy.” 

“How queer it is, I cannot think of him otherwise 
than making fun and talking nonsense ; but the doctor 
has told me that in such moments, his calmness and 
presence of mind are admirable. Tell me more about 
him, did he help you much ? What did he do ? ” 

Aimee did not answer. Maud looked at her, and was 
suddenly seized with remorse. 

“ You are tired, I see. I will leave you, and to-morrow 
you will tell me all, even to the smallest details ; good- 
night, darling.” 

But whether she was not sleepy, whether she was too 
fatigued to make a movement, Aim4e remained a long 
time motionless, in the same place, her head bent on her 
hand, her eyes fixed vaguely, and seemed incapable of 
tearing herself from her reverie. All at once she raised 
her head, and listened. 

“ Midnight ! I am absurd,” and, without waiting 
further, she rose, passed her hand across her brow several 
times, as if to drive away her haunting thoughts, and 
began to undo her hair. 

“ I did not thiak myself so ridiculous,” murmured she, 


182 


A HAPPY FIND. 


^^1 greatly need one of Mr. Arnauld’s letters. This is 
what comes of living like a savage, far from all society ; 
one attaches a significance to little things which mean 
nothing when one comes to think them over. Is he not 
good and attentive to every one ? It is his nature, he 
could not do otherwise. But it is permitted to love what 
is good ; no one can prevent me, no one has the right, not 
even Mr. Arnauld.” 

She frowned, and pressed her lips defiantly. 

To love without asking anything, to love for the 
pleasure of loving, is the rare privilege of some rare 
natures. Generally, the heart cannot give much without 
feeling itself weakened, and longing for something in 
return. But, happily for Aimee, this thought did not 
even come to her mind, and, when the morning dawned, 
and the first rays of sunlight shone upon her bed, they 
found her so profoundly asleep that they could have 
played long in her thick hair, on her forehead, and even 
on her rosy lips, without awaking her ; and when, a little 
later, her door opened gently, and a graceful figure, 
dressed in white, approached the bed and murmured her 
name, the sleeper uttered a sigh, and would have resumed 
her happy slumber, if a burst of laughter had not 
recalled her to life. She opened her eyes, and fixed them 
upon her companion with a surprised look. 

^^You are up already! What time is it? I have 
overslept ’’ — 

^^What a crime!’’ said Maud^ seating herself at the 


MINISTERING. 183 

foot of the bed ; now guess what visitor I have had, 
and with whom I breakfasted this morning ? ’’ 

‘^Mr. Wallson?” 

“No.’’ 

“Aunt Lore ? ” 

“No, no, no aunt ; with Mr. Douay, who came to 
inquire after you, and told me all sorts of things which 
you would never have told me. It is not worth while 
to blush ; in your place, I should be very proud, and boast 
of my courage and adroitness everywhere.” 

“What nonsense; I had only to obey the doctor. 
Does it need so much courage and adroitness for that ? ” 

“ Unfortunately, I am not of your opinion, I cannot 
bear the sight of a burn.” 

“ I thought for a long time that it was the same thing 
with me ; day before yesterday, even, I went without 
knowing if I could be of the least use, but, once there, 
I felt I had to ” — 

“ And I, I feel that I must kiss you and run away. 
Dress yourself quickly, we will go during the day to ask 
after the sick. Apropos, old Caton * Mr. Douay’s house- 
keeper, does not cease repeating that if her grandson 
recovers, she will owe it to you.” 


• Caton. An old-fashioned feminine name. 


CHAPTEE XIX. 


A PAIR OF SPECTACLES. 

Mademoiselle Aimee, what luck to meet you here ! 
Will you do me a favor ? ” 

“ Willingly, doctor, if it is in my power.’’ 

have just found in my pocket my old friend’s 
spectacles ; will you carry them to him ? I am in a 
hurry.” 

Aimee made a significant grimace. 

^^You have nothing to fear,” continued the doctor, 
laughing, ‘^the ogre is more inoffensive than ever, he 
had a sprain yesterday which will keep him on his sofa 
for one or two weeks. Before going out, I established 
him on the verandah with his papers. I do not know 
how I came to take his spectacles, unless ” — 

‘^Give them to me, doctor, I will go home quickly, 
and send one of the servants to him,” interrupted 
Aimee. 

^^Xo, no, if you will not go, I will go myself; it is 
not worth while to take so much trouble; I am sure 
that he is already in a rage because he cannot read his 
papers.” 

‘‘In that case, I will go,” said the young girl, sud- 


A PAIR OF SPECTACLES. 


185 


denly resolved by the little doctor’s cross tone. ^^But 
what will they think of my absence ? Maud ought to 
be awake now.” 

Do not be troubled, my road takes me straight to 
the Lindens. I will tell them, in passing, where you 
are.” 

Thank you.” 

And Aimee, without too much good will, went in the 
direction of St. Lock’s. 

When she reached the gate, she hesitated a second, 
then, collecting all her courage, she opened it and 
advanced resolutely along the path where the old man 
was accustomed to walk. 

As she approached the house, her steps slackened in 
spite of herself, and her heart began to beat. 

^‘1 am absurd,” thought she. ^^One would really say 
that I was going to meet a Avild animal, and not to 
return to a helpless old man his precious spectacles.” 

But that did not hinder her from feeling her pulses 
quicken more than usual. 

She looked right and left, in the hope of perceiving a 
servant to whom she could give them, but all was de- 
serted, and the only noise that she heard was her own 
step upon the gravel. 

“If only the verandah curtains were not down,” 
thought Aimee, “and I could see what he was doing, 
perhaps that would give me courage. Ah! there is a 
little opening — yes, he is there, but — I believe that he 


186 


A HAPPY FIND. 


is asleep ; I will try to lay the spectacles down without 
awakening him 

She mounted the stone steps noiselessly, and found 
herself in front of the old man, who abruptly opened 
his eyes, moved upon his couch, and tried to sit up. 

“ I beg your pardon,’’ said Aimee, I met the doctor, 
who sent me with these spectacles, which he found in 
his pocket ; he thought you would need them.” 

The old man held out his hand, and murmured some 
words of apology. 

^^He would have brought them himself if he had not 
been so hurried,” added she, preparing to leave. 

The old man shrugged his shoulders. 

^^It is always the same thing, they are in a hurry 
when they want to be, these doctors. Imbecile,” mur- 
mured he, trying fruitlessly to reach the papers placed 
near him, he does everything upside down ; he carries 
off my spectacles, and puts my papers a mile away.” 

Aimee hastened to give them to him, and was about 
to take her leave, when a door opened and a servant 
appeared. 

“Do you need anything, sir ? ” asked the new comer. 

“No.” 

“ Will you take your coffee, sir ? ” 

The old man turned towards the door with an irritated 
look. 

“ Must I not eat, even if I have sprained my ankle ? ” 

The servant disappeared, and Aimee was about to dp 


A PAIB OF SPECTACLES. 


187 


the same, when the old man threw his papers and spec- 
tacles away from him. 

He might have spared you the trouble of bringing 
them,^^ said he, crossly; ^^who can read in such a 
position ? 

Aimee had picked up the paper, and looked at the 
poor man with a feeling of fear and compassion. 

I could, perhaps, read to you myself, if you wished,’’ 
added she, surprised at her own audacity. 

^^You!” He seemed amazed. ^^How long since 
women knew how to read ? ” 

Aimee could not help smiling. 

I think that I know ; at least, I have supposed so.” 

“Without stammering, without whining, without sing- 
song ? ” 

“ I will try not to do either.” 

The old man did not answer, and Aimee drew up a 
chair. 

“ Where shall I begin ? ” 

He hesitated — “With the correspondence,” said he, 
at last. 

Aimee obeyed, and read without stopping for almost 
half an hour. At that moment the servant came in with 
coffee. 

“ Do you wish any ? ” inquired the old man, brusquely. 

“Ho, thank you, I never drink coffee.” 

“ What do you drink, then ? ” 

“Tea, ” 


188 


A HAPPY FIND. 


You might say water with a certain taste.’^ 

Aimee, this time, could not help laughing. 

^at seems to me,” said she, <^that one might say as 
much of coffee.” 

The old man looked at her, and his face lit up ; it was 
the first time. 

Shall I continue ? ” 

‘^Yes, if you are not tired.” 

Do I read very badly ? ” 

^^No, not for a woman.” 

Quite proud of such praise, Aimee resumed her read- 
ing. When she had finished, she looked at her watch, 
and rose quickly. 

I must go ! It is later than I thought. May I come 
back to-morrow ? ” 

The old man turned an astonished look upon her. 

To-morrow ? Why ? ” 

“ To read to you ; that is, if you wish it.” 

He did not answer for a moment. 

Why do you want to read to me ? ” He spoke hesi- 
tatingly, as if he regretted each of his words. 

do not know. It must be so tiresome to be all 
alone, without being able to do anything.” 

He turned away, and closed his eyes. 

Good-by, until to-morrow,” said Aimee, and she ran 
off, her heart so light and joyous, that it seemed easier 
to fiy than to walk. 

She had just ent;ered the little wood which led to the 


A PAIH OF SPFCTAOLas, 189 

Lindens, when she perceived through the foliage a fig- 
ure, which turned quickly at the sound of her step. 

It is he ! Why is he here ? ” And she struggled 
with the emotion which made her heart beat. 

“ How you have made me wait ! ” said the new-comer, 
shaking hands with her. 

I ? ” and she looked with astonishment at the young 
superintendent of the factory. 

Certainly,’’ replied he, with the same mischievous 
smile; since it is a half hour that I have been here 
waiting, for fear of missing you.” 

Are you going to the Lindens ? ” 

^^hTo, I have just come from there; I was there when 
the doctor passed. How did he receive you ? ” And he 
looked in the direction of St. Kock’s. 

“ Hot so badly ; I am to go back to-morrow.” 

^Hs it that prospect which makes you look so 
happy ? ” 

Aimee blushed deeply. 

“Perhaps,” said she, then she added with a little 
agitation ; “ is it not strange that one so often deprives 
one’s self of the pleasure of doing a little good to the 
suffering and unhappy ? ” 

“It is our egotism which deceives us, and thus de- 
prives us of one of the purest joys we can have.” 

“ Oh ! I was only thinking of myself in saying that.” 

“ Do you suppose that I do not share the weaknesses 
of humanity ? ” 


190 


A ITAPPy FIND. 


“ Maud has often spoken to me of all that you have 
done for the factory workmen.’’ 

He laughed. 

^^Miss Maud is a little enthusiast; one must never 
believe more than half she says. Now, I will give you 
my message from your invalids.” 

But they are well, are they not ? ” 

“Yes, nearly. They send you word that they will 
never forget all that you have done for them, and that, 
if the day comes when you will need aid, you must not 
forget them, then.” 

Aimee did not answer immediately. 

“ If they knew,” said she, at last, “ the little inclina- 
tion I had to go with the doctor, and how I wished that 
Mademoiselle Estelle would awake before I started, they 
would not be so grateful, and they would have some 
reason not to be.” 

“ But you do not regret your sacrifice ? ” 

“ Oh ! no, I am only sorry that it should have been 
one; I think you find it hard to understand me.” 

“ I ? ” his blue eyes became grave. “ I understand 
you, because I know what it costs to sacrifice one’s 
tastes to one’s duties; but I know also how sweet is 
the feeling of duty accomplished; above all, when one 
has done it to please the One who never judges our 
actions, but our intentions.” 

“ Is it not difficult to act like that always ? ” 

“Perhaps, only one must not forget that if we do 


A PAIR OF SPECTACLES. 19 l 

good only in the sight of men, we receive our reward 
already.’’ 

She looked gravely at him, and met his kind smile. 

Here we are at the park entrance,” said he, “ I must 
leave you.” 

Will you not come in ? ” 

not this evening, I have been absent from the 
factory a long time.” 

She held out her hand, which he held closely in his 
for a moment, and they separated. 

The next day, and on the days which followed, Aimee 
profited by the hour of Maud’s rest to return to St. 
Rock’s, and, according to her promise, read to the old 
invalid, who was, nevertheless, careful to show her no 
gratitude, and always received her with his crossest air. 
But as soon as the first moment was passed, his wrinkled 
face softened by degrees, and Aimee generally returned 
with a heart light and joyous, happy in having succeeded 
in brightening a little that lonely life, at the bottom of 
which, she was sure, existed some secret sorrow, all the 
deeper because it was hidden. 

One afternoon, as she was returning in all haste after 
her daily reading, she met the doctor, who from afar 
saw her, and barred her path. 

0 doctor, let me pass ! I am in a hurry ; Maud is 
waiting for me to go to the factory, with Mademoiselle 
Tsabeau.” 


192 


A BAPPY FIJSfi). 


That will be a good exercise for their patience, Ma- 
demoiselle Aimee,” said the doctor, winking mischiev- 
ously ; ^^yoii know you ought not to neglect any oppor- 
tunity for the improvement of your pupil. Besides, I 
have only two words to say to you.” 

But Ainiee knew that the doctor’s two words could be 
prolonged indefinitely. 

Do you think that Mr. St. Eock will soon be able to 
walk ? ” she asked. 

“ That is just what I was going to tell you. I think 
that he could, easily, if he wished to ; but he is so cun- 
ning, he knows well that his reader will abandon him as 
soon as he can move.” 

Aimee blushed with pleasure. 

0 doctor ! are you sure ? Do you really think 
that my visits please him ? He is always so gruff when 
I arrive.” 

^^What would you have? It is his manner; he is 
original from head to foot.” 

It is not a very agreeable originality.” 

“I have found a charm in it: there are so many 
people who do not care anything for me, and yet smile at 
me all day long, that I do not grumble if I am a little 
ill-treated by one who really cares for me.” 

“ But how do you know that he likes my visits ? Has 
he told you ? ” 

Oh ! no, indeed. When he says such a thing, we 
shall have to bury him. But I am very perspicacious. 


A PAIR OF SPECTACLES. 


193 


though, it may not seem so, and I see many things that 
are not told me, and that people even try to hide from 
me. Formerly, for instance, he would insist that I should 
remain with him for the afternoon ; now he sends me 
away, under the pretext that my cigars are not good ; 
then, hardly has he finished breakfast, than he wishes to 
be carried to the verandah, where he forbids any one to 
disturb him, on the plea that he wishes to sleep.” 

But perhaps all that is true.” 

The doctor laughed. 

Let your mind be easy, I can see clearly, though my 
eyes are much smaller than yours. But I must leave you, 
I am wasting my time. Adieu,” and he hurried off. 

''All alone?” said he, as he entered St. Rock’s 
verandah. 

" Am I not always alone ? ” responded the old man, 
from the sofa where he was lying. 

" Ah ! then she has not been here these last days.” 

"Yes, yes, she’s been here, but she only stayed one 
or two minutes; she is always in a hurry, like all 
women who have nothing to do.” 

" In that case, I am glad I came back early ; I could 
read to you for a while.” 

" You ? ISTo, thank you, you read much too badly. 
Besides, the papers tire me, politics do not interest me 
any more.” 

" What interests you, then ? ” 

" Nothing.” 


194 


A HAFPr FIND. 


The two men kept silence ; the doctor lit his cigar, 
and stretched himself in the most comfortable arm-chair 
in the verandah. 

Do you know who she is ? ’’ suddenly asked the old 
man, in a slow voice, almost in a whisper. 

The doctor smiled mischievously. 

^•'Are you speaking of Mademoiselle Valros^?’^ A 
significant grunt answered him. No, I know nothing 
about her.’^ 

Is she rich ? 

I suppose not, I never heard of the rich working for 
their living.’’ 

Are they kind to her ? ” 

Where ? At the Lindens ? They all adore her, 
except la belle Isabeau, and I should not be surprised if . 
the epidemic extended as far as the factory.” 

You think, then, that she is poor.” 

“ That depends upon one’s idea of poverty. Diogenes 
thought himself rich in his tub.” 

The old man shrugged his shoulders. 

It is so stupid to be always trying to be witty.” 

What would you have me do ? I try to hide my 
miseries as best I can.” 

There was an instant’s silence, during which the help- 
less invalid stirred uneasily upon his couch. 

Perhaps it is foolish,” he murmured, perhaps she 
is no better than the rest, perhaps I am again deceived.” 

What did you say ? I did not understand.” 


A PAIR OP SPECTACLES. I95 

“ Nothing, nothing ; if I was sure of not doing some- 
thing foolish — 

“ What would you do ? 

“ I would leave her something in my will, if only to 
keep her from want, later in life, you know/^ 

There was a pause, during which the old man seemed 
to wait anxiously. 

The idea is not bad,” said the doctor, at last, but 
you ought to think it over a little, and find out something 
about her.” 

The sick man’s face lit up. 

‘^No, no,” said he, since you do not think it a bad 
idea, I need not wait. Wallson would never have taken 
her without good recommendations ; that is sufficient. I 
have never said anything to her, but this will prove that 
I am not as ungrateful as I seem. Will you give me 
some paper ? ” 

I ‘^No, you can write another time; just now, I want 
you to try to walk.” 

But I have already told you that I cannot put my foot 
to the ground.” 

“Eeally, that is what I told Mademoiselle Aimee,” 
said the doctor, carelessly. ‘^She asked me if you 
could not soon walk. I think that she would not 
be sorry to walk about a little with you, instead of 
remaining in a chair, like an automaton. These girls 
from the Midi are like quicksilver, they cannot stay in 
one place.” 


196 


A SAPPY FINS. 


If you think so, I will try, but you must help me. 
Give me your arm.’’ 

The doctor obeyed. 

You see now, I was right, as usual,” said he, reseat- 
ing the old man, who seemed quite surprised at having 
made the tour of the verandah. ^^Now we have done 
with this affair, and you are free to sprain your other 
ankle, if you think fit.” 

Thank you, I have not the least inclination, but if 
you will help me to my ofiice, you shall be free also to 
do as you like.” 

^^You are thoughtful with your permission. It was 
worth while to rush home like one possessed ; I am well 
rewarded, truly.” 

But the old man did not appear to hear him, his eyes 
were dreamy, and his lips moved. 

Come, then,” said the doctor, approaching, “ I think 
we can do it without any one’s aid.” And putting his 
arm in his, they left the verandah together. 

^^Does your foot hurt you?” asked the physician, 
seating his friend in his arm-chair near the desk. 

A negative movement was the only answer. The 
doctor was about to go away, when, with a gesture, 
the old man recalled him. 

Bayard, advise me.” 

About what ? ” 

About that little girl. Do you think she is really 
what she seems ? If she were deceiving me, as the 


A PAIB OF SPFCTACLFS. 


197 


other — that makes me hesitate — yet, I do not want to 
be unjust, nor do her wrong because her eyes are the 
same, and her smile as innocent. Perhaps she is really 
a true and good woman. What do you think ? ’’ 

I ? Nothing. I am not so suspicious.” 

If you had had your heart torn from your bosom,” 
cried the old man ; “ if the light of your eyes had been 
taken from you, if your only joy had been destroyed, 
and you had been left bare, ruined by the roadside, and 
the demon who did it all was a woman, — would you 
not have learned to be suspicious ? ” 

The doctor’s face had become so grave that one could 
hardly recognize it. 

“ Listen, St. Eock,” said he, after a moment’s silence : 
^^it is better to avoid this subject, for we differ greatly; 
in my opinion, her only fault was that she had neither 
name nor fortune.” 

“ It is no fault to marry against a father’s will,” cried 
the old man, vehemently ; it is no fault to rob a man 
of his only son, — to destroy forever his happiness and 
his life?” 

You are not just, you forget that he loved her, that 
he wished no one but her for his wife, and that he pre- 
ferred to see himself disinherited and driven from home 
rather than renounce her.” 

An honest woman would never have permitted him 
to sacrifice himself after such a fashion ; she would have 
reasoned with him.” 


198 


A HAPPY FIND. 


“ Eeasoned ! when one is a child, when one loves, and 
is loved, — it is easy to say it. But here we are, far 
away from your idea; it is my opinion that you had 
better postpone your project.’’ 

With these words, the physician hastened to leave the 
room. 

Left alone, the old man dropped his head upon his 
breast, and sat motionless for a long time. When he 
raised his head, his resolution was taken. 

Good or bad,” murmured he, trying a pen, she will 
see that I am not ungrateful ; if she does not deserve it, 
at all events, I shall never know it, and if otherwise, I 
shall have done a good action, which has not happened 
for many a day.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


A HASTY DEPARTURE. 

AiMi^E, never dreaming of the debate of which she was 
the subject, reached the house gayly. 

thought she, “I have not deserved to be so 
soon rewarded,’’ and, unconsciously, her beautiful eyes 
were lifted, and sought the sky through the thick 
foliage. 

She walked quickly; first, because she was happy, 
and then because she knew that they were waiting for 
her to go to the factory. 

^^It is strange,” thought she, as she approached the 
house, ^^the door is not open. Have they given up the 
idea of going out ? And Maud is not at her window, 
something must have happened.” 

She quickened her steps, and went towards the parlor, 
when Aunt Lore came out, her face greatly disturbed. 

Oh, my dear ! ” she cried, I do not know what will 
become of us. Edwin, Mr. Wallson, has just received a 
telegram which tells him that his only sister is very ill, 
and desires to see him again. He is about to start, and 
absolutely insists upon taking Maud with him, in spite 
of all the remonstrances of Isa and Estelle.” 

^^When will they start?” asked Aimee, in a voice 
which she tried to render steady. 

199 


200 


A HAPPY FIND. 


I do not know ; at once, I think. But come in, Mr. 
Wallson has already asked for you.’’ 

‘‘No, thank you, I will go to my room first.” 

But she had hardly taken off her hat before a servant 
came to say that Mr. Wallson wished to speak to 
her. 

“It is the end,” thought she, and her heart throbbed 
at the thought of the solitude which was to be her lot ; 
a sad smile came to her lips, as she remembered that this 
moment had once been so earnestly desired. Mr. Wallson 
came to meet her, and drew her to a seat near him. 

“ You have heard of my trouble ? ” he said. 

Aimee made a sign in the affirmative. 

“ I have too little time,” he continued, “ to lose in 
thinking. I must go ; it is my duty.” 

“ Does Maud go, also ? ” asked Aimee in an altered 
voice. 

“ I hesitated a little about taking her, but now I have 
decided to do it; not because I cannot leave her, but 
because it would be such a pleasure to my sister to see 
her again, that is, if we have the joy to find her living.” 

Aimee kept silent. 

“It is just on the subject of her departure that I 
wished to speak to you,” continued Mr. Wallson. 

The poor child pressed her hands together to keep 
from trembling. 

“ I fear,” continued he, “ that life at the Lindens will 
seem rather dull to you without your little friend, and I 


A HASTY DEPARTURE. 201 

am afraid of being selfish if I ask you to remain, all the 
same, and to wait for us here/^ 

Aimee’s face had flushed deeply. 

“Mr. Arnauld,’’ resumed Mr. Wallson, “has spoken 
to me in his letters of your desire to see your friends, 
and to return to live near them ; I am then asking you 
to make a real sacrifice, but I ask it in my child’s name. 
She cannot bear the thought of not having you with her 
when she returns.” 

“The real sacrifice,” answered Aimee, lifting her 
clear eyes towards Mr. Wallson, “would be for me 
to return to the abbey. I will gladly await Maud’s 
return.” 

“ Even if her absence lasted several months ? ” 

“ Yes,” said she. 

“ It is a great relief to me, and I cannot thank you 
enough.” 

“ I do not desire any thanks, I make no sacrifice ; it 
is quite the reverse.” 

“ I am very glad of it, my child, for Maud seemed 
persuaded that you would wish to return to the Midi, and 
that thought troubled her greatly. I hope,” he continued, 
“ that our absence will not be longer than two months. 
During that time, I beg you to consider my house as 
your home, and to employ your time as you like, so that 
it will pass as pleasantly as possible.” 

“ Thank you,” responded Aimee, rising : she said no 
more, but the tone of her voice, and the moved expres- 


202 ^ HAPPY FIND. 

sion of her face told Mr. Wallson all that she could not 
say. 

I am sure,” said he, accompanying her to the door, 
^Hhat Maud is waiting for you impatiently; she will 
doubtless need you to help her in her preparations for 
the journey.” 

Aimee vanished, and ran to her companion’s room, 
where she found her, kneeling sadly before a great empty 
trunk, in the midst of a heap of linen, dresses, cloaks, 
and other things. Her pretty face bore traces of recent 
tears, which began to fall fast at the sight of Aimee. 

I am so sorry for you,” murmured the latter, clasping 
her in her arms. I did not know you loved your aunt 
so dearly ; you have rarely spoken of her.” 

Maud raised a desolate face. 

am not crying about her,” said she vehemently, 

that grieves me, but I am not crying for that ; it is a 
shame, is it not, to deceive everybody so ? I am crying ” 
— she threw her arms around Aimee’s neck, and clasped 
her convulsively — I am crying because I shall not see 
you any more, because when I come back, you will be 
gone to that Silvereal, Avhich I wish was at the bottom 
of the sea.” 

A gay laugh answered her words. 

Is that all ? Then comfort yourself, my darling, I 
will wait for you months, a year, if need be. Do you 
not know that I am happier here than anywhere else ? 
Why should I go away ? ” 


A HASTY BEPABTUBH. 


203 


Like an April sky, veiled in clouds for a moment, 
Maud raised her pretty face once more, still wet with 
tears, hut with a brilliant smile shining over it. 

Is that true ? ’’ said she ; do you not want to go 
back to the abbey ? 

^^No, not as long as you want me with you,^’ answered 
Aimee warmly. 

And you do not think me a horrible creature to have 
thought more of my own happiness than of my poor 
aunt ? I love her dearly, you know, but the idea of not 
finding you here was too much for me. Now I am at 
rest, and if I cry, it will be no pretence.” 

Aimee could not keep from laughing, Maud was so 
prettily selfish, that she could not help it. 

When shall you start ? ” 

‘‘To-morrow; we shall reach Havre just in time to 
take the steamer. Will you help me pack ? ” 

“Willingly.” 

The two young girls went to work, talking gayly, and 
making many plans for the future. 

It was late when they separated for the night. 
Aimee had been in bed several minutes, when Maud, 
dressed in a long white robe, slipped into her room, and 
seated herself upon the bed. 

“It is useless,” said she, “I cannot sleep; I have such 
frightful presentiments.” 

“You are too tired; to-morrow all your gloomy ideas 
will have disappeared, you will only think of a pleasant 
sea voyage.” 


204 


A HAPPY FIND, 


Maud shook her head sadly. 

I do not know what it is/’ murmured she, but I 
have such a weight here ” — she pressed her hand to her 
bosom — I am not afraid of shipwreck,” continued she, 
“ I never think of it, even ; it is something else which 
makes me uneasy, but I do not know what. You are 
quite sure that I shall find you here when I come 
back ? ” 

As sure as that you see me here now, if God spares 
my life ; nothing in the world could make me leave.” 

Even if Aunt Isa became still more dreadful ? ” 

^^Even if the house was full of Aunt Isas.” 

“And if Mr. Arnauld ordered you to return to 
Silvereal? ” 

“ I shall be of age next month, and, consequently, my 
own mistress.” 

But Maud did not yet seem satisfied. 

“ It is because you love me that you are staying, and 
that you will wait for me, is it not ? ” 

“Yes, for that reason only.” 

“ And will you promise me to stay here until you do 
not love me any longer ? ” 

“ That is a horrible supposition,” said Aimee, caress- 
ing the small face bent so uneasily over her’s ; “ I might 
as well promise to go away because I love you.” 

“ It would be a strange way of showing it.” 

“ Are you satisfied, now ? ” 

“ A little more so, but not quite.” 


A MASTY DEPABTUBE. 205 

“ You must go to bed, my darling, or you will be too 
tired to start to-morrow.” 

Without answering, Maud clasped her friend in her 
arms, pressing her closely, until a sob rose to her lips ; 
then she fled to her room, and hid her face in the 
pillows. 

Maud was gone, and the entire house seemed plunged 
in profound mourning. In the corridors, one met 
gloomy figures with handkerchiefs to their eyes — 
Aimee, herself, had instinctively laid on one side all 
bright colors, in order to array herself in sombre hues, 
never thinking that it was for her advantage thus to 
show her clear complexion and graceful figure. Her 
beautiful face was paler than usual, her eyes seemed 
dimmed with tears. 

The evening had come, and, one after another, the 
figures had slipped noiselessly into the parlor, and 
taken their accustomed places around the table. 

No one had the courage to speak, and the silence was 
only broken by sighs and stifled murmurs. 

All at once a quick step on the gravelled path, and a 
tap at the hall door abruptly changed the thoughts of 
the four ladies gathered there. 

« Who can come at such an hour ? ” cried Mademoiselle 
Isabeau. '' Aimee, I forbid you to open the door.” 

But it was too late, the young girl had already held 
out her hand to the new-comer, and her bright color 


206 


A HAPPY FIND. 


sufficiently indicated that she, from the first, had rec- 
ognized the visitor’s step. 

How good of you to come, Mr. Douay,” cried Aunt 
Lore, “we are all so sad.” 

“ Is that why you are bolted in after such a fashion ? ” 
responded the young man, gayly, shaking hands with the 
three ladies, one after the other. “I was on the point 
of going back, thinking it was a plot to get rid of the 
unfortunate.” 

“And you wisely thought that you were not one of 
them,” said Aunt Lore, kindly. 

“ I did not think anything about it, I only listened to 
my own wishes,” said the young man, who, from some 
feeling of gratitude, seated himself by the little old 
lady. 

“We have had doors and shutters closed at night- 
fall,” resumed Mademoiselle Isabeau, “ and we shall do 
it until Mr. Wallson returns; it is always best to be pru- 
dent, the house is so lonely.” 

“Do you fear thieves ? ” 

“ I fear all sorts of robbers,” answered Mademoiselle 
Isabeau, in such a dry tone that the young man could 
not help looking at her, half surprised, half amused. 

“ Then I must have frightened you,” said he, “ I beg 
your pardon ; another time I will try to come earlier, but 
to-day it was impossible.” 

“Edwin’s, Mr. Wallson’s, departure will add greatly to 
your cares, will it not ? ” asked Aunt Lore with interest. 


A HASTY DEPARTUBF. 207 

Naturally, a little ; but fortunately, it is at the most 
convenient time for me.’’ 

I hope that you will come to see us often, though 
the Lindens have lost their charm. That dear little girl 
leaves a frightful gap behind her, and I do not under- 
stand how I have sometimes found her too noisy or too 
gay.” 

^^What pains me more than her absence,” added 
Mademoiselle Isabeau, ‘4s the thought that she will 
return to us more savage and badly educated than ever.” 

The young man laughed. 

“To hear you, mademoiselle, one would think that 
Miss Maud had gone among the Indians.” 

“ The effect could not be more disastrous ; when I 
think of the education that we have received, and the 
education of that child, I shiver.” 

“ But I do not see anything in her that is so extraordi- 
nary ! she resembles all the young American girls of my 
acquaintance.” 

“ In that case I congratulate all young girls who are 
not Americans.” 

“Is that your opinion, also. Mademoiselle Aim^e?” 
asked the young man, laughingly. 

The sweet face bent over her embroidery was slowly 
lifted, and her eyes met those fixed upon her. 

“Mademoiselle Valrose’s opinion has no great value; 
every one knows that she admires Maud, even to her 
defects,” said Mademoiselle Isabeau, dryly. 


208 


HAPPY FIND. 


Because her defects come from her good qualities/' 
answered Aimee, tranquilly. 

Explain yourself." 

Aimee blushed. 

It seems to me that it is easy to explain her abrupt- 
ness by the ardor of her feelings and her impressions ; 
her freedom of language, by her frankness, and " — 

“ In order to be shocked at a bad education," inter- 
rupted the old maid, “ one must have a superior one one's 
self ; consequently, your opinion does not surprise me." 

Aimee did not answer, and resumed her work quietly, 
while the young man nervously pulled his moustache. 
If Mademoiselle Isabeau had been a man, he would have 
shaken her, but with a white-haired old maid, one must 
at least keep a respectful and polite exterior. 

He regretted having drawn upon Aim4e the lady's 
indignation, and he would have liked to repair his error, 
and express his regret, but she did not raise her eyes, and 
her cheeks were still crimson. 

The time passed painfully, conversation languished, 
and the hope that a fortunate chance would show him 
that she was not angry with him, diminished little by 
little, when a loud ring made them all start. 

The instant after, the doctor’s well-known voice was 
heard, and his jovial face appeared at the door. 

I want you, Estelle," said he, shaking the hands held 
out to him, one after the other ; Oh ! you may look at 
me. Mademoiselle Aimee, I can resist your eyes, though 


209 


A HASTY DEPARTUBE. 

it is not easy. For to-day I do not need you ; ’’ and 
turning towards Mademoiselle Estelle, he explained in 
scientific terms the nature of the case for which he 
wished her aid ; after which, he turned abruptly : “ In 
heaven’s name,” cried he, why do you shut yourselves 
up like this ? One cannot breathe here.” 

I thought it more prudent to shut everything all up 
until Mr. Wallson’s return.” replied Mademoiselle Isabeau. 

“Is it your intention to suspend breathing until he 
returns ? Do you not see that Mademoiselle Aimee is on 
the point of fainting ? You will come with us,” said he 
to the young girl, “the evening is magnificent. Ah ! but 
Estelle will not come back — ApropoSj Mr. Douay, I am 
going to spend one of these days at the factory. I have 
some one to recommend to you — but I believe you are 
going to faint also. Is it this departure for the New 
World which gives you all these weeping-willow airs ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said Aunt Lore, in a tearful voice. “ I 
do not know how w'e shall do without them.” 

“Well, in order to begin, I advise you not to bury 
yourselves alive, and to open your windows. Now, you 
must go and put on your hat, and take a little walk with 
Mademoiselle Aimee, who cannot come back alone.” 

“ I ? ” cried the little lady, frightened ; “ I never go 
out in the evening.” 

“ I will go with you, doctor, and bring back Mademoi- 
selle Aimee.” 

“ Ah ! I had forgotten you,” cried the physician, turn- 


210 


A itAPFV FIND. 


ing towards the young man. “ Will you really take so 
much trouble ? ” added he mischievously. 

At this moment Mademoiselle Estelle returned to the 
room. 

I am ready, doctor.’’ 

I am not surprised to hear it, you have taken your 
time. Let us go ; Mr. Douay, you go first, I am afraid 
you will lose your way.” 

The evening was indeed beautiful, though already a 
little cool. Millions of stars shone in the dark blue sky, 
and with their soft, clear light, tempered the profound 
darkness of the jiight. 

The young people had gone in advance. 

want your forgiveness,” said the young man, as 
soon as they were far enough not to be overheard. 

My forgiveness ? For what ? ” 

^^For having made you speak when you were wise 
enough to keep silent; I should have understood that 
you knew better than I what you ought to do.” 

I have nothing to forgive.” said Aimee, “ I knew all 
the time that your intentions were good.” 

The blue eyes which sought to pierce the darkness 
shone with pleasure. 

Do you know what brought me this evening ? ” 

No, certainly not. 

“ A feeling of uneasiness. I have been haunted since 
yesterday by the idea that Miss Maud’s departure would 
be followed by another. Am I right ? ” 


A HASTY DEPAETUBK 


211 


you mean me, you are mistaken. I have promised 
Maud to wait for her a year even, if it is necessary.’^ 

At this moment the doctor’s voice was heard. 

Are you crazy, Mr. Douay ? One cannot follow you. 
We part here,” added he, indicating a small house, whose 
windows were still illuminated. “Now, you will return 
like good children, and do not lose your way.” 

“ Do not be afraid, doctor.” 

“Well, well, be quick. Come, Estelle, we are losing 
time.” 

“ What will you do during Miss Maud’s absence ? ” 
asked the young man, as they took once more the road 
which led to the Lindens. 

“ I shall not be in any need of distraction,” answered 
Aimee, “ and I do not think I shall lack occupation. In 
the first place, I shall have to amuse Mademoiselle Lore, 
who will feel Maud’s absence most, and then I shall 
read and knit and walk, and, what else ? And when I 
am at the end of my resources, I will beg Mademoiselle 
Isabeau to begin my education again.” 

“ Do not recall my sins,” said the young man, laugh- 
ingly. 

^^It was not my intention, I assure you.” 

“ Do you still go to St. Lock’s ” inquired he, recover- 
ing his gravity. 

“ Certainly, every day.” 

“How proud you must be of having civilized this 
savage ! ” 


212 


A HAPPY FIND. 


“ I have not civilized him at all. That came of itself. 
I should be much prouder if I could render our evenings 
tolerable ; just now, that is what distresses me most, for 
they are lengthening every day; and if all are to be 
like this evening, it is not encouraging. Before you 
came, not a word had been spoken.’’ 

“ That was better than what happened later ; acknowl- 
edge that you were sorry that I came to disturb your 
quiet; as for me, besides that thought, which was not 
agreeable, I really had a good mind to knock Made- 
moiselle Isabeau down, in order to teach her to meas- 
ure her words and her conduct towards her neighbor.” 

It is the same thing,” said Aimee, laughing ; I did 
not regret that you came, it made a diversion, which was 
the main thing.” 

“You are very good to treat it so. I would come 
every evening if I could, though I fear that sort of 
diversion, myself ; but, you know, our rooms are about 
to open, and I do not dare to leave my men entirely to 
themselves.” 

“ I understand.” 

They were quite near the house, and instinctively 
slackened their steps. 

“I should like to make a compact with you. Ma- 
demoiselle Aimee,” said the young man, stopping sud- 
denly. 

“ A compact ! ” repeated Aim^e, a little surprised. 

“I should like you, during Miss Maud’s absence, to 


A HASTY DEPARTURE, 


213 


take me for a confidant of your trials as well as of your 
pleasures ; in a word, that you should depend on me 
only in case of any trouble or difiiculty ; I- am not sure 
if you understand me ? 

I think so, thank you/’ 

You ought not to thank me, but just to promise.” 

Aimee raised her eyes towards the true face which 
bent over her, trying to pierce the darkness. 

promise,” said she, placing her hand in the one 
which he held out, — ^^at least, as far as lies in my 
power.” 

I do not much like that reservation. I promise un- 
reservedly, though you do not ask my promise, for a 
compact has no value, if it is only on one side.” 

^‘Naturally.” 

He kept silent, retaining her hand as if he had still 
more to say ; then, releasing it suddenly, he contented 
himself with wishing her a simple good night, and let 
her go. 


CHAPTER XXL 


SOME LETTERS. 

Autumn had succeeded to summer, and winter to 
autumn, and Maud had not yet returned. Each of her 
letters, so impatiently waited for, brought fresh disap- 
pointment to the Lindens. 

Mr. Wallson, who had had the joy of seeing his sister, 
and the consolation of soothing her last moments, seemed 
to wish to postpone his return indefinitely. His rela- 
tives and friends, he wrote, absolutely refused to hear 
his departure spoken of, and he was forced to give way. 

And Maud, while appearing sincerely glad of her pros- 
pective return to Europe, did not seem to suffer much 
for the delay. 

Aimee was sometimes tempted to believe herself for- 
gotten, when a letter would come, so full of tenderness, 
where the young girPs heart throbbed in every line, and 
she was ashamed of having doubted her little compan- 
ion’s affection, even for a mement. 

As for the Misses Vaudrai, they could find no words 
to express their just indignation, and shut themselves 
up in a solemn silence. Aunt Lore, alone, sometimes 
spoke with Aimee upon the forbidden subject; her heart 
214 


SOME LETTERS. 215 

had too great need of sympathy to be able always to 
hide its pain. 

On her part, the young girl did her best to cheer the 
three ladies, and to replace, in some measure, their pre- 
cious, though thoughtless little niece. 

Between her visits to St. Kock, her hours of conversa- 
tion with Aunt Lore, her walks and readings, the days 
rolled away more quickly than Aimee had hoped ; but 
she had enough to do make the evenings interesting. 
When she had played for Mademoiselle Isabeau’s partic- 
ular edification, two or three very sleepy sonatas, she 
sometimes proposed to read, which, regularly, put Aunt 
Estelle to sleep ; then she shut her book, and tried to 
begin a conversation, which no one took the trouble to 
sustain. Her visits to St. Kock generally formed the 
topic. She had always something droll or interesting to 
tell about the old man, who was still to the three ladies a 
mysteriously wicked personage ; but who had long since 
inspired her with compassion and interest. 

Not that he had ceased to be rude and cross, his man- 
ner was the same, and he would have preferred to die 
rather than betray by a smile that the young girl’s visits 
gave him pleasure, or that he could really do no longer 
without them. 

Without losing for a moment his cross and contradic- 
tory manner, he teased her and compelled her to speak 
of all that interested her, the present, the past, and evep 
the future, 


216 


A HAPPY FIND. 


He had long since become acquainted with all the 
places of her childhood; her life at the abbey, Aunt 
Martha, were as well known to him, as if he had lived 
there. 

And then, there were her visits to the conservatories, 
which seemed to have no end, and from which Aimee 
always came home treasure-laden, — treasures which she 
generously shared with all. 

There was only one day in the week when she did not 
go to St. Kock’s. Upon Mademoiselle Isabeau’s request, 
and perhaps, also, upon the request of another, Aimee 
remained at home on Sunday in order to receive their 
usual guest, who, since Mr. Wallson’s departure, seemed 
to consider it a duty to come to the Lindens as frequently 
as his many duties permitted. 

Sometimes, when he had the time, the young man 
went directly to St. Rock’s, and waited near the gate 
until Aimee came out ; then he accompanied her, through 
the park, by the longest paths, sometimes talking, some- 
times silent, but never for an instant losing from his 
sight the sweet face upon which he liked to read the 
reflection of all her impressions. 

He seemed to have assumed another duty also, that of 
remaining faithful to the compact which he had himself 
proposed. From that day, he had really taken Aimee 
for a confidant of all his projects for the future, of his 
cares as well as his hopes. To her he sometimes came to 
ask advice, he sought to interest her in all his life at the 


SOME LETTERS, 


217 


factory ; he initiated her little by little in the task which 
he had assumed towards his workmen, a task difficult, 
and often rewarded by the ingratitude of the very ones 
whom he tried to aid. 

As for Aimee, she acted as many women do ; she kept 
to herself the thousand little pains and worries of her 
daily life, as unworthy of another’s notice, and gave all 
her sympathy and interest to the one who so often came 
to claim them. 

It would have been egotism and ingratitude to refuse 
this sympathy, and Aimee was neither an egotist nor 
ungrateful. 

While regretting the absence of her little companion, 
she was happy to be useful and necessary, not only to 
the friend whom she learned to love and esteem more 
and more, but also to Aunt Lore, whose brow cleared and 
whose eyes brightened whenever she saw her return from 
St. Eock’s. And had she not there, also, a new cause of 
joy and gratitude ? Did she not see this strange and 
taciturn old man slowly awaking from his long stupor, 
and recovering some enjoyment in life ? 

Thus Aimee, gay and careless, followed the flowery 
path of her new existence, without a care for the morrow, 
without a thought of the future, never asking herself 
where she was going, closing her eyes except to the 
happy present. 

One morning, when as usual, she was seated by Aunt 
Lore’s side, to whom she was reading, while the other 


218 


A JIAPrr FIND. 


ladies, near the chimney, did their best to do nothing, 
the servant entered with the letters. 

A letter from Edwin ! ’’ cried Mademoiselle Isabeau. 

Let us see if he announces his return. There is one 
for you, also, Aimee, from Maud.’’ 

The young girl rose quickly to take possession of the 
precious missive. 

Their departure was decided, Maud wrote, and their 
places already taken upon the vessel ; in two weeks, or 
three at most, they would be back again, at which 
she rejoiced with all her heart, even while it cost her 
much to leave her many friends ; but the prospect of 
having Aimee was a great consolation. She should have 
so many things to tell her, that the days would not be 
long enough. And then — and then she would have a 
secret to confide to her, a secret nearly as old as herself, 
and which was called — and here followed a name which 
Aim^e could hardly decipher. After the reading of this 
letter, which from beginning to end breathed of perfect 
happiness, Aimee remained lost in thought. 

During this time, the ladies had read by turns their 
brother-in-law’s letter. 

Is it not unheard of, Dolores ? ” murmured Mademoi- 
selle Isabeau, as the former replaced the letter in its 
envelope without saying anything. 

“ I do not know,” answered Aunt Lore, with a thought- 
ful air, perhaps we ought to have expected it, but she 
seemed such a child,” 


S03IE LETTERS. 


219 


Aimee raised her head. 

It is more than unheard of, it is indecent,’’ resumed 
Mademoiselle Isabeau ; who would have believed that 
badly brought up little girl, with her babyish ways, 
entertained such feelings ? At her age, and later still, 
my doll was the sole object of my tenderness, my entire 
pre-occupation; I only abandoned it to take charge of 
our little sister, is it not so, Estelle ? ” 

Certainly, my dear, I remember that it was the same 
with me ; at Maud’s age we were as pure, as innocent as 
new-born babes.” 

Aunt Lore added nothing ; perhaps her memory 
recalled that, at her niece’s age she had been guilty of a 
similar transgression. 

Edwin has never had any common sense,” resumed 
Mademoiselle Isabeau; ought he not to point out to 
his daughter the absurdity of such an inclination? 
Only a rich merchant ! ” 

^^But,” suggested Aunt Lore, “Edwin was only a 
rich merchant himself when he married our sister.” 

“ The circumstances were very different ; Edwin had 
his colossal fortune, and his reputation as a foreigner. 
The Douays have not even that advantage, and I doubt 
if they are as rich as they say.” 

“It is really shameful,” added Mademoiselle Estelle; 
“ if we had only guessed something when Edwin sought 
a partner, we would have used all our influence then to 
have dissuaded him.” 


220 


A HAPPY FIND. 


You forgot that then he was also ignorant of Maud’s 
feelings; does he not say himself how surprised and 
amused he was when she opened her heart to him, and 
told him that her interest in the factory was only a 
pretext.” 

‘^To dissimulate to such a degree, at such an age, 
passes my comprehension,” sighed Mademoiselle Estelle. 

At this moment Aimee rose noiselessly, and left the 
parlor. With a quiet, almost a slow step, she reached 
her room, then, like one who acts unconsciously, she 
first approached the table, touched absently the different 
objects upon it, went to look through the window, and, 
at last, seated herself in the darkest corner of the apart- 
ment. 

Her head thrown back, her lips colorless, her eyes 
wide open, the poor child saw with agony the end of 
all her hopes. The veil which had covered her eyes had 
been abruptly torn away. How had she been able to 
forget her tutor’s warnings, how had she not seen the 
danger in front of her, how had she thus deceived her- 
self ? She pushed back her hair from her forehead, as 
if unable to bear its weight, her hands pressed them- 
selves together convulsively. What should she do ? 
What would become of her? Would she have the 
courage to tear this feeling from her heart ? Would 
she be strong enough to fly, to condemn herself to a 
frightful solitude for ten, twenty, tliirty years, who 
could tell, perhaps mor.e ? She closed her eyes, as if 


SOME LETTERS, 


221 


to escape the horrible vision. And if it was too late, if 
he — she dared not continue her thought, but a flash of 
joy shone in her eyes. 

All at once, a cry of horror escaped from her lips, she 
rose quickly, and, pressing her two hands to her burning 
brow, she began to pace her room, as if she wished to fly 
from herself. Yes, for an instant she had forgotten 
another’s suffering, to sacrifice another to her own 
happiness, and that other was the child who had 
shown her such tenderness, and had made her life 
bright and happy. 

She covered her face and moaned. Oh ! who would 
help her ? Who would give her strength ? From the 
depths of this abyss the poor child lifted passionate 
hands heavenward, then sank down by her bed and hid 
her face. 

Long she remained thus, tearless, motionless. Tears 
are not permitted to the one who fights, — the one to 
whom comes the victory. Later, when the victory 
comes, then, rising again, broken and bruised, he can 
weep ; his tears will do good, and soothe his sorrow. 

When Aimee rose, pale with fatigue and suffering, 
she was resolute. Maud should never have cause to 
doubt her, never ; for the love of her she would be the 
same, she would laugh and be happy. Her beautiful 
eyes shone with a new light, the light that love gives, — 
the sacrifice of one’s self. 

if — but no, God would not permit such a sorrow. 


222 


A HAPPY FIND. 


How had she been able to imagine for a moment that 
he had other than simple friendship for her ? Was he 
not good and aimable with every one? To him that 
was as natural as for others to be coarse and rude. No, 
it was not surprising that he had come to the Lindens 
less often than formerly ; it was not surprising that, 
when he came, he had sought her more, Maud being no 
longer there. Besides, had he ever spoken of anything 
except his projects for the future in the factory ; and 
with his workmen ? No, fortunately, no, and with 
clasped hands, she thanked God. 

Maud should never know of the bitter sorrow which 
filled her heart at this moment. Maud, her little Maud, 
would be happy ; this affection as old as herself would 
one day be returned, if it was not already. As for 
her — no, she would not think of herself, she would 
live from day to day, hour by hour, her hand in the 
Hand of the One who had led Aunt Martha, who would 
lead her also, and who would bring them together again 
soon. 0 yes ! she hoped that it would be soon. 

At this moment the first breakfast bell was heard. 

Aimee pressed her hand to her brow, as if she felt 
keen pain, then she began her toilette feverishly. 

Good heavens ! what is the matter with you ? cried 
Mademoiselle Estelle, as she entered the dining-room. 

It is nothing,” she answered, I have a headache.” 

^^But, my dear, you look dreadfully, you must go to 
bed ; I will send for the doctor.” 


SOME LETTERS. . 228 

Thank you, that is not necessary; perhaps I shall 
see him this afternoon at St. Eock’s.’^ 

But you cannot go out in this condition.” 

“ I think it would do me good.” 

“ Perhaps,” suggested Aunt Lore, it would he better 
to rest now. Come, my child, I will arrange a compress 
of my aromatic vinegar.” 

Aimee gave way, and remained quiet, lying on her 
bed, trying not to think, until the time came when she 
was in the habit of going to St. Eock^s. 

As she entered the forest, a doubt crossed her mind. 
Was it possible that one night, only one night had passed 
since she had last crossed the park ? She looked around 
her — no, nothing was changed ; as on the previous day, 
the trees were bare, the leaves covered the paths, and 
rustled beneath her tread. She only was not the same, 
she had grown old. What should she do, in order to 
appear gay, to amuse the old man, and speak of a thou- 
sand things which had now lost their interest ? It is so 
difficult to laugh when the heart is breaking. 

The two friends awaited her in the elegant and com- 
fortable apartment which served as library and smoking 
room. 

You are a good two minutes late,” cried the doctor, 
as she made her appearance. ‘^St. Eock was already 
speaking of putting on his coat, to go and look for you, 
and bring you, dead or alive.” 

^^Hush, you old chatterbox,” retorted the old man, 




A JETAPPY FIND. 


“you have never told anything but fibs all your life. 
Will you come and see the conservatories/^ added he, 
turning towards Aimee, “ I have several new things to 
show you, their toilette has taken me all the morning.’’ 

The visit was long and tedious ; the old man stopped 
by each plant, and made the young girl do the same, 
examining it with him in all its details. 

“'Now', they are going to give you their reward,” said 
he, taking a scissors ; “you know when a baby has been 
very good, even though he has not heard a word of his 
lesson, one ought to encourage him.” 

Aimee smiled. 

“ That is enough,” said she, “ do not cut any more.” 

“ Why, the baby is good indeed to-day ! What is the 
matter ? Are you ill ? ” he asked suddenly, handing 
her some superb roses. 

“ Only a little headache.” 

“ Why did you not say so ? This air is not good for 
you. Come out of it at once. I will have some tea 
made for you, since you like it.” 

“ Have you a remedy for the headache, Bayard ? ” 
cried the old man, approaching the house. 

“ It is nothing,” said Aimee, “ it was not worth while 
to speak of it.” 

“ Physicians are idiots,” said he, preceding the young 
girl into the library. 

“ Why ? ” asked the doctor, who had remained com- 
fortably installed before the fire. 


SOME LETTERS. 


225 


“Why? Here I have been asking you for an hour 
for a remedy for the headache, and you pretend to be 
asleep, so as not to avow your ignorance/’ 

“ I have heard nothing ; have you a headache ? That 
is something new.” 

“ I ? ” the old man made a disdainful grimace. “ No, 
she has; come, sit here in this arm-chair, you will be 
more comfortable.” 

“ I know only one remedy for the headache,” said the 
physician; “it is patience. Is your head very bad. 
Mademoiselle Aimee ? ” 

“Yes, but I can bear it.” She took the tea which was 
brought her, then, feeling herself suddenly strengthened, 
she began to talk feverishly. 

“ What will you do,” roughly asked her old friend, 
“ when you leave the Lindens ? ” 

The blood mounted to the young girl’s cheeks. 

“ I shall go home,” she replied. 

“ And you will live on what ? ” 

“On my money. Aunt Martha did not leave me 
much, but enough, all the same, for me to give a little to 
those poorer than I am.” 

The old man smiled mischievously, and looked at the 
doctor out of the corner of one eye. 

“ All that,” said he, “ is very fine and very good ; it is 
like those horrible ruins one admires in a picture, but one 
would not live in them for anything in the world. It 
will be less agreeable when you are there, when, instead 


226 


A HAPPY FIND. 


of riding in a carriage, you will be tired with walking, 
and, instead of ordering, you will be forced to wait on 
yourself.’’ 

Aimee looked at the old man a little strangely. 

I do not understand why you tell me that, since one 
cannot change anything. Whether I will or not, I must 
submit; but,” added she, more gayly, “I shall always 
have this poor consolation, I shall see others more to be 
pitied than myself.” 

You are a philosopher.” 

“ Oh ! no, philosophy is the least of my defects.” 

Which is the greatest ? ” 

I do not know,” she pressed her hand to her fore- 
head, perhaps Mademoiselle Isabeau could tell you.” 

Do you hear, Bayard, you shall go and ask her ; but 
no, he does not hear, he is in a brown study watching the 
fire.” 

Without knowing it, the old man was right, the doctor 
was dreaming. “We are all the same,” he thought; “it 
matters not what age. We let ourselves be captivated 
by a pair of beautiful eyes, and the sound of a sweet 
voice; and hers is particularly sweet. And he cannot 
see himself, he does not feel his thistle stings become 
soft as fur. It does me good to hear him laugh, and to 
see his face become a little smoother every day. What 
a strange thing life is ! And to what is this change due ? 
Some would say to Providence; others, chance; and I 
say to a pair of spectacles.” 


SOME LETTERS. 227 

The door opened, and a servant entered, and silently 
laid a letter upon the table. 

Give it to me,” said the doctor, holding out his hand. 

“ It is for Mr. St. Eock.” 

For me ? ” cried the old man, frowning terribly. 

What can it mean ? Where does it come from ? ” 

It has a Swiss stamp.” 

During this time, Aimee had put on her wraps, happy 
in this diversion, which enabled her to take leave earlier 
than usual. 

As soon as thej^ were alone, the old man, still in an 
uncertain manner, tore open the envelope, and began to 
read, while the doctor, as astonished as he, watched 
him. All at once he pushed back his arm-chair, and 
sprang towards his friend. 

‘^What is the matter with you?” cried he. “St. 
Eock, are you dying ? St. Eock, answer me ! ” 

For all answer, the old man pressed his hand to his 
throat and fell. 

The doctor had just the time to break his fall, then, 
quick as a flash, tore off his cravat ; for to the dark-red 
hue, so suddenly spread over his face, a frightful pallor 
had succeeded. 

“His heart is still beating,” murmured the poor 
doctor, whose hands trembled convulsively, and, with 
this ray of hope, his presence of mind returned to him, 
he rushed to the door, and called all the servants at 
once. 


228 


A HAPPY FIND. 


Some moments later, the sick man, still unconscious, 
was carried to his room, where for a long time, they 
vainly tried to restore him to consciousness. Many 
hours passed before the doctor dared to leave his 
friend^s bedside. And it was 'with a bent head and 
anxious look that he reentered the library, the door of 
which he had taken care to leave half open ; then picking 
up the letter that the old man had dropped, he examined 
the signature with minute care, and began to read. But 
his face, which at first expressed only trouble and indif- 
ference, soon betrayed his interest; his breath grew 
quick, he did not read, he devoured it. And, all at 
once, a keen emotion lit up his face. 

She ! ” murmured he ; She ! Good heavens, how 
strange ! 

He rose abruptly, and passed his hand several times 
across his eyes and forehead. 

“ Ah ! am I so weak ? I, too ? Miserable woman, 
she would have killed us all with the same blow. And 
she thought she was doing her duty, she had promised, 
sworn ; but ought she not to have known better, ought 
she not to have known the good that existed under that 
terrible mask ! Then, changing his tone, Poor little 
thing,’^ murmured he, '^how she must have suffered, 
how frightened she must have been, in order to exact 
such a promise ! 

He seated himself. 

“ All this is very strange, very incredible, and yet, it 


SOME LETTERS. 


229 


seems to me now, that I have always known it. Man 
is a queer animal, he only needs a few moments to accus- 
tom him to the most extraordinary, the most thrilling 
news — when it does not kill one instantly. Poor, poor 
St. Eock, she has deprived him of twenty years of hap- 
piness, and she tells him before she dies, and she hopes 
to go to heaven. Oh ! if there was any justice ! 

He hurried from the room. 

St. Eock,’’ murmured he, approaching the old man, 
softly. 

There was no movement. 

The physician looked around him despairingly. What 
should he do to bring back a ray to that dull eye, a light 
of recognition to that impassive countenance ? 

A sudden thought came to him, he turned quickly 
towards the valet. 

Do not leave him for a moment,” said he, give him 
his medicine every quarter of an hour, do you hear? 
That spark of life must not be quenched.” 

You are obliged to go out, sir ? ” 

Yes, but I am coming back. St. Eock, I am coming 
back, coming back with her. St. Eock, it is worth while 
to live now.” 

Only the light movement of the coverings, which 
indicated that he still breathed, was the answer to 
these words. The doctor seemed to hesitate a moment, 
then, taking his hat, he hurried from the house as 
(quickly as possible, 


CHAPTEE XXII. 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 

Your walk has not done you much good/’ said Aunt 
Lore, as Aimee entered the parlor, I see that you are 
as ill as ever.” 

^^It will pass away to-night,” added Mademoiselle 
Estelle, only sleep will cure sick headaches.” 

Aimee seated herself in her usual place, without hav- 
ing the courage to speak. 

^^I have never seen you look so badly,” continued 
Mademoiselle Estelle, “I should not be surprised if 
this headache were the precursor of some serious ill- 
ness; your eyes have such dark rings around them 
that it looks as if you had on glasses.” 

Aim^e was about to answer when the door opened, 
and Mr. Douay was announced. 

The poor child’s heart beat as if it would burst, and 
she moved quickly from the light. 

Are you ill ? ” asked the young man, taking the 
hand which she extended to him. 

^^No, thank you.” 

He looked at her, and his bright smile vanished, but 
he said nothing more, and took his place in an arm- 
chair, from which he could watch her every movement. 

230 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 


231 


What have you thought of the news ? ” asked he ; I 
have left my men expressly to come and talk it over.’’ 

^^Oh! you know it, too?” cried Aunt Lore; “is it 
not delightful to think that in two or three weeks, at 
most, they will be back ? ” 

Aimee had quickly taken a piece of embroidery, and 
worked at it with feverish energy, not daring to raise 
her eyes, for fear of meeting those fixed upon her. 

It was the first time that the young man had seen 
that sad expression, and that persistent avoidance of his 
look. What could have happened ? Only yesterday he 
had seen her smile, — that sunny smile that he loved so 
dearly ; he had seen those limpid eyes raised to his with 
even more than confidence. Could she be ill ? Her 
beautiful face changed color every moment. Had she 
any trouble ? Who would have dared to trouble her ? 
“ If I ask her to go out, perhaps she would tell me, — 
but no, it is impossible ; the night is as black as a fur- 
nace and it is snowing besides.” He rose and came to 
lean upon the back of her chair. 

“ You are terribly busy this evening.” 

Aim^e raised her eyes, and tried to smile. 

I need to count all the time,” said she, “ without 
that I make mistakes.” 

“Then lay your work aside, or are you in a hurry 
about it ? ” 

“ Oh, no, it is some embroidery on which Maud has 
been at work for years,” 


232 


A HAPPY FIND. 


It seemed to me that I recognized it,” said the young 
man, laughing. Leave that old thing j Miss Maud can 
finish it herself.” 

He took it out of her hands, and saw that she was 
trembling. 

Are you cold ? ” he cried, growing serious. Come 
over to the fire.” 

Aimee obeyed. 

Are you ill ? ” he murmured, almost in her ear. 

She made a negative sign. Only a little headache.” 

“You remember our compact, you promised,” added 
he, in a low voice. 

She raised a troubled face to his. 

“ I said if it was in my power.” 

“ And it is not in your power ? ” 

She shook her head. He remained silent, motionless, 
looking at, but not seeing the brilliant fire which burned 
on the hearth, and feeling, for the first time, something 
bitter in his heart. Why had she secrets which she 
could not confide to him ? He had none ; he would tell 
her anything, one thing excepted, and that he had 
decided to tell her at once, as soon as he was sure — but 
now, he was no longer sure, she seemed to avoid looking 
at him, and, even in speaking, seemed embarrassed and 
uneasy. 

At that instant the doctor’s well-known voice was 
heard, and the door opened to admit him ; but at the 
sight of him, every one uttered au exclamation, 


DEATH OF ST. BOOK. 


233 


‘^Doctor, what has happened ? You are in trouble.” 

Without answering, he looked around him, and went 
straight to Aimee, who had risen, and looked at him in 
surprise. 

Come,” said he, taking her hand, he is very ill ; you 
must come at once.” 

Aimee uttered a cry, and hurried out of the room. 

Wrap up warmly,” cried Aunt Lore; — ^^how did it 
happen, doctor ? ” 

Almost immediately after she left.” 

Is it an attack ? ” 

I do not know, it looks like it.” 

I do not see what good Aimee^s presence can do,” 
murmured Mademoiselle Isabeau. 

^ ^^In any case, no harm,” answered the doctor, dryly; 

I should not have come after her, if I had not thought 
it necessary.” 

At this moment, the young girl came back, made her 
adieu in haste, and hurried off, followed by the physician ; 
but hardly had they left the house, when he checked 
her 

Do not walk so fast, it is useless. I have something 
to tell you that you ought to know before you reach 
him ; take my arm, and listen to me, if you can, without 
interrupting me. It is his history which I am going to 
tell you. You already know that he has not always 
lived here. He lived in the north of France, like 
myself. Our acq^uaintance dates from babyhood, and 


234 


A HAPPY FIND. 


our friendship, which had its birth on the benches of the 
infant school, has never changed. Later, we were at the 
same college, and afterwards, for several years, at the 
same university. But as St. Kock needed no profession, 
he returned to his estate and married, while I took my 
diploma as ^ physician, and came to establish myself 
here. One fine day, nearly three years after his mar- 
riage, I received a letter inviting me to his house, to act 
as godfather to his first child ; but before I had the time 
to make my preparations for going, a telegram brought 
me the news that my friend was a widower, and his son 
motherless. 

But I must cut short my story. I have no time to. 
speak of his grief ; the best proof that it was real is, 
that he has never thought of marrying again. He had 
only one thought, one tenderness, and that was his little 
Bayard, whom he had confided to a young Swiss girl, 
then in service at his house. The boy grew up, became 
beautiful like his mother ; he had her eyes and hair. As 
for the rest, it was his father over again, the same iron 
will, the same quickness, the same generosity. 

All went well for years. St. Eock saw nothing good 
or beautiful under the sun except his boy, and sincerely 
believed that the whole world had not such another. He 
did his best to spoil him, and every one in the house did 
the same, including the Swiss girl, who would have liked 
to treat him as a baby all his life. 

“ I saw him often, I believe I told you that I was his 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 


235 


godfather, and you must know, then, that I adored him 
like every one else. And he was, indeed, lovable, with 
his lordly airs, and his goodness towards every one. In 
short, their home was a true paradise, and a pair of eyes 
was sufficient to turn it into a hell. St Kock, natu- 
rally, dreamed of a marriage for his son, a marriage 
worthy of him ; that is to say, worthy of a prince, though 
he had no title of nobility, nothing except an ancient 
name, and an immense fortune. He searched the coun- 
try, went right and left, and searched so well, that at 
last he found one whom he thought worthy to make his 
son happy, and proudly came back to tell him of his 
discovery. Bayard listened to him tranquilly, then, as 
tranquilly, told him that he had loved for years a young 
orphan girl, a simple governess at the house of one of 
his friends. To tell you of the terrible scenes which 
passed then between the father and son would be to 
waste our time ; the boy held his own, proving himself 
his father’s son. Ho threats or prayers, supplications 
or entreaties, could shake him. 

^^St. Eock only saw the young girl once, but it ap- 
pears that he gave way before her to such terrible vio- 
lence, that, from that time, and for all her life, which 
was not long, the poor child could not hear her father- 
in-law spoken of without trembling and turning pale. 
Nevertheless, her terror was not as strong as her love 
for his son, for she let herself be persuaded into marry- 
ing him, in spite of all the maledictions of the old man. 


236 


A HAPPY FIND. 


‘^When St. Kock saw that his son’s decision was 
taken, he sent him some thousand francs, which his 
mother had brought him at their marriage, and begged 
him to understand that he had a father no longer. 
Bayard tried to change him, but it was in vain. * Poor 
St. Eock, he has been heavily punished for that moment 
of hardness. 

The Swiss nurse, had, naturally, done as all women 
would do, she had taken up the cause of the lovers, 
whom she followed and served until the time of their 
death. The poor father, he could not guess what would 
happen. His intentions were not, as he has often told 
me, to banish his son forever. He hoped that the need 
of money would bring him one day, and then he meant 
to show himself good and generous. That day never 
came. Bayard died almost suddenly, of an affection of 
the heart, which left no time for a reconciliation with 
his father. When St. Eock arrived, all was over. It 
was then that he committed, in my opinion, his greatest 
fault. He refused to see his daughter-in-law, whom he 
regarded as the cause of all his sorrow, and returned 
home, where he remained one or two years, before 
deciding to come and live near me, in order to lead 
the life with which you are familiar.” 

‘‘ Is she still living ? ” murmured Aimee, in a choked 
voice. 

^^No, she died a few months after her husband, at 
Silvereal,” 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 


237 


At Silvereal ? ’’ 

‘^Yes; but listen to me carefully now, without inter- 
rupting me. St. Rock received this evening a letter. I 
do not know how to tell you that — a letter which tells 
him that his daughter-in-law died after having given 
birth to a child, of whose existence he has never heard 
until to-day.’’ 

How strange ! ” 

^^Do not say anything, listen to me quietly. The 
poor creature, feeling, it appears, that she was going to 
die, made the Swiss nurse, who had never left her since 
her husband’s death, promise to hide the birth of this 
infant from her father-in-law, certain that it would in- 
herit the hatred he had for her. I do not remember 
how she arranged it, though the letter recounts it fully j 
in short, she resolved to expose the child, and did it in 
such a fashion that it was found and taken by an honest 
woman, named Martha Valrose. 

“There, there, be brave, don’t tremble so; do you 
wish to rest a moment ? ” 

“ No, no, let us go quickly. Is he very ill ? ” 

“ I am afraid so, the blow was too unexpected, and it 
crushed him; but perhaps when he sees you, he will 
rally, but, just as likely, he may sink at once.” 

Feeling as though she were in a dream, Aimee quick- 
ened her steps ; she did not feel the bitter cold, nor the 
icy wind which swept her face. She knew only one 
thing, — this old man, who was dying, was the only one 


238 


A HAPPV FIND. 


on earth who belonged to her ; she never thought of his 
injustice and cruelty, she only remembered his long 
silence, his long loneliness. 

She had let go the doctor’s arm, and walked at his 
side with rapid and unequal steps. 

“ Are you sure that he will not be angry when he sees 
me ? ” asked she, as they crossed the threshold. 

Eor all answer, the physician took her hand, and drew 
her towards the old man’s room. 

^^Try to be calm; try not to tremble,” said he in a 
low voice, as they entered. 

Aimee followed him upon tiptoe to the old man’s 
bed. 

^^St. Eock,” murmured the doctor, ^^she is here, she 
will stay with you, she will never leave you again.” 

Something like a sob rose in the young girl’s throat ; 
she knelt down by the bed, and put her hand in the old 
man’s. He opened his eyes, fixed them for several sec- 
onds upon the young face bent so compassionately over 
his, and a feeble smile came to his lips ; then his eyes 
wandered round the room, and his lips moved. 

The physician approached the bed quickly. 

St. Eock, you recognize us do you not ? She is 
here, near you ; she will never go away any more.” 

Eor all answer, the sick man slowly raised his hand, 
and laid it for an instant upon the young girl’s bent 
head. 

You will take care of her,” murmured he. 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 239 

Do not say such a thing, St. Eock ; you will recover, 
you will live.” 

Aimee sobbed, still holding his hand, which, from time 
to time responded with a feeble pressure to her caresses 
and kisses. 

All at once the sick man’s face changed. 

Too late,” murmured he, ‘‘ no pardon — too great a 
sinner ” — 

A passionate sob answered his words, then the voice 
of the young girl rose in the silence of the* night, and 
from the depths of her heart, she sent heavenward an 
ardent supplication. 

The dying man opened his eyes, seemed to listen, and 
then slowly crossed his hands upon his breast, and lay 
motionless, while his poor soul, borne upon the wings of 
prayer, appeared before its Judge. 

The day was beginning to break when Aimee moved 
away from the bed where rested the body of this strange 
old man, to whom, at the close of his life, she had been 
able to bring a little happiness. 

She left the room noiselessly, for fear of awaking the 
doctor, who had dropped asleep, and slipped like a 
shadow along the corridors, and down the stairway. 

The icy morning air seemed to recall her to herself. 
She threw a desolate glance around her, as the memory 
of these past months returned to her. Oh ! if she had 
known, if she had guessed ! But she had known nothing. 


240 


A BAPPY FIND, 


and it was too late ; too late for him, too late for her. 
A keen pain filled her heart, she quickened her steps, as 
if to escape these assailing thoughts. 

She saw nothing ; the thick curtain of clouds covering 
the sky seemed to cover everything. All was dark 
around her, sombre and icy; her heart seemed like a 
stone, and her poor head a chaos that no ray could 
illumine. 

She had entered the forest, and walked with bent head, 
so preoccupied and so sad, that she neither saw nor 
heard a slender figure which advanced to meet her. 

“ Mademoiselle Aimee ! 

The young director of the factory was near her, and 
looked at her with a singular mixture of joy and pain. 

I have been waiting for you a long time,” said he, “ I 
could not rest until I had seen you. You were so strange 
yesterday, so unlike yourself, that it has kept me awake 
all night. Will you not tell me why you were so sad ? ” 

Aimee raised to his a look from which all joy had fled. 

“ He is dead,” she answered ; and, covering her face 
with her hands, she began to sob. 

The young man remained an instant motionless with 
surprise ; he did not expect such news, nor such a burst 
of grief. 

Do not cry,” murmured he, it pains me to see you 
so sad ; ” he touched her shoulder lightly, then, growing 
bolder, he took one of her hands and kept it in his. 

“I wish I could comfort you,” said he ; I should like 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 


241 


to share all your pain, all your sorrow, — will you not let 
nie ? You know that I love you, not since yesterday, 
nor since to-day, but since the first day that you came to 
the Lindens. Do you hear me, Aimee ? 

The young girPs tears were suddenly checked; she 
listened motionless, stupefied, her eyes fixed upon those 
which regarded her so- ardently, listened to these strange 
words, whose sense she seemed unable to compre- 
hend. 

The young man’s face changed; the beautiful face 
raised to his expressed neither joy nor the sweet confu- 
sion which seems to acknowledge a similar confession. 

Aimee’s lips trembled convulsively. 

Did you say that you loved me ? ” she murmured. 

Did you not know it ? Have you not seen it long 
ago, Aimee, my ” — 

She interrupted him abruptly. 

Do not say anything more, do not add a word, I beg 
of you.” 

^^But, Aimee, you do not know” — 

^•No, I wish to know nothing, hear nothing; it would 
be a crime, treason ; let me go.” 

And drawing her hand from his, she hurried away. 

Aim^e, listen to me, I have something more to tell 
you ; it was I who ” — 

But she had already disappeared in the depths of the 
forest. 

The young man took a step forward to follow her, 


242 


A HAPPY FIND. 


then, checking himself, he leaned against a tree, and, 
taking off his hat, passed his hand through his hair. 

“ A crime,’’ murmured he, “ treason ? toward whom ? 
— Oh ! I understand,” — he smiled bitterly, — I am too 
late, she has already given what I asked for, and I, who 
thought I had the first right ” — 

He laughed aloud, and resumed his walk. When he 
reached the factory, all the workmen were busy; he 
went through the rooms, looking neither to right or left, 
addressing no word to any one, not even smiling at the 
army of children, who were already busy like industrious 
ants. 

Perceiving his pale face, and gloomy looks, each of the 
workmen drew respectfully aside, and asked themselves 
what could have darkened that young face, usually so 
bright and happy. 

“ The master has received bad news.” Such was the 
report which soon spread itself over the factory, and 
this report was soon confirmed by old Caton’s grand- 
son, who, in the course of the day, confided to his 
comrades that the master had not touched his dinner. 

Aimee had pursued her homeward course, without 
even stopping to take breath; she had gained her 
room, and, still breathless, she remained motionless in 
the middle of that elegant little apartment, as if she 
were afraid to move, for fear of releasing some impetu- 
ous torrent around her. 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 


243 


Her beautiful eyes, darkened by despair, seemed fixed 
as if upon some horrible vision. One thought only filled 
her heart ; she remembered no more past days, nor her 
dreams of happiness ; she thought no more of that name, 
so ardently longed for, and so uselessly recovered ; she 
had forgotten the old man, her grandfather, found and 
lost the same day. She only saw, far away, a little 
face with large black eyes, which looked sadly at her, 
and begged her to restore her what she had taken away, 
the one she had loved from her childhood, without whom 
she could not live. At that moment, the door opened 
softly. 

My poor little girl, how dreadfully you look ! ” 

And Aunt Lore put her arm around her waist, and 
kissed her tenderly. 

He is dead ! ” sobbed Aimee ; I have no one now 
on earth, no one ” — 

“ Hush, hush, my dear child, how can you say that, at 
the moment when Edwin, Mr. Wallson, and Maud are 
coming back ? ” 

Aimee looked at her entreatingly. You will let me 
go, will you not, Aunt Lore?’’ and she clasped her 
hands to give force to her pleading. Oh ! I beg you, 
let me go away to-day, to-morrow, if you love me ! ” 

^^But, Aimee, how can you speak so ? Go away when 
Maud is coming back! It would be the blackest in- 
gratitude.” 

^^No, Aunt Lore, I assure you not; it is because I love 


244 


1 


A HAPPY FIND. 


her that I want to go ; because I love her, — oh ! with my 
whole heart, more than myself ! ” 

She pressed her handkerchief to her lips, as if to 
check the words which were about to escape her. 

Mademoiselle Lore was in consternation. That night 
of watching, the grief caused by the death of her old 
friend, had certainly affected the young girl’s mind. 
She took her hand. 

Will you do me a favor, Aimee ? ” 

0 yes ! if I can, I will.” 

Go to bed at once, while I get something for you to 
eat ; I am sure that you have taken nothing since yes- 
terday, and you are beside yourself with fatigue. Will 
you do as I ask you ? ” 

1 will try.” 

That is well, my child ; I will go down now to see 
what I can send you. I will come back soon.” 

When she reappeared. Mademoiselle Lore found Aimee 
lying upon her bed half dressed, by her side a tray 
which she had hardly touched. The little lady ap- 
proached carefully, and, seeing that she did not move, 
noiselessly withdrew, happy in the good result of her 
advice. The day wore awaj^, and after each of her 
visits. Aunt Lore went away with a lighter heart. The 
young girl continued her peaceful slumber. When night 
came, she sat up, and pushed back her long hair. 

The door opened once more, and the benevolent face 
of Aunt Lore smiled at the young girl. 


DEATH OF ST. BOCK. 245 

^^You are awake, my child. I hope that your long 
sleep has done you good.’’ 

Thank you.” 

^^Will you not come down for dinner? It will give 
me so much pleasure.” 

Oh ! please, not this evening.” 

^^Well, well, my child, there is no hurry; you will be 
still better to-morrow. Meanwhile, I will send you some 
dinner.” 

As soon as she was alone, Aimee rose, wrapped her- 
self in a shawl, and seated herself upon her little 
sofa. 

What a day ! She could never forget it. She leaned 
her weary head upon her clasped hands, and became 
absorbed in her thoughts, when the noise of steps and 
voices made her start. In a moment, the doctor ap- 
peared, followed by Mademoiselle Estelle. 

He approached the young girl, and took her hand 
warmly, but without his usual gay smile. 

I thought of coming during the day,” said he, but 
so many things have prevented, that, if it had not been 
for Aunt Estelle’s note, I should have waited until to- 
morrow. How do you feel this evening ? ” 

“ Thank you.” 

That is no answer. Give me your hand. It is like 
ice ; at least, you have no fever. And your headache ? ” 

^^I have it still, a little.” 

Well, very well ; you need have no fear, Estelle. I 


246 


A HAPPY FIND. 


will stay a moment with our patient, while you can 
finish your dinner quietly.” 

Mademoiselle Estelle understood that she was dis- 
missed, and quitted the room with dignity. 

^^You have passed a sad day,” said the physician, 
see it in your eyes. See, I have brought you ” — 

But before he could finish, Aimee had put her hand on 
his arm, and with a pleading accent said, — 

Doctor, promise me that you will aid me to leave 
the Lindens ? ” 

The physician looked at her in astonishment. 

Leave this house ? Why ? ” 

“ I do not know. Oh ! perhaps I know, but I cannot 
tell ; promise me, doctor ; I am ill, do you not see it ? If 
you will not help me, I must run away. Tell me that 
you will help me.” 

The physician seemed perplexed, and for some seconds 
looked closely at the pale face with the pleading eyes 
resting upon him. 

‘‘ If I could understand your desire,” said he, at last. 

Aimee pressed her hand to her forehead. 

I am so unhappy, so ill ; do you not see that it would 
be better for me to return for a few months, at least ? 
When I am better, later, we will see. Promise me that 
you will tell them to let me go, tell them that it is wrong 
to try to prevent me ; they do not understand,” cried 
she, with agitation, how wrong it is to force me to stay 
when I am sad and unhappy.” 


DEATH OF ST. BOCK. 


247 


The doctor rose, took a few steps across the room, then 
returned to Aimee, who had anxiously watched his 
movements. 

did not think,” said he, 'Hhat this would affect you 
thus ; but since it is so, I believe that you are right, 
some weeks of rest and absolute change will entirely 
restore you. I will arrange it, you need have no 
anxiety.” 

“ You are certain, doctor ? ” 

Perfectly certain that in one or two days, I will 
accompany you to the station.” 

A sigh of relief rose to Ainiee’s lips. 

Thank you, doctor.” 

He took the little hand which she extended, and 
pressed it silently. 

“How,” said he, “I am going to show you what I 
brought for you.” And he drew from his pocket a large 
envelope upon which Aimde read the words, “To my 
friend, Bayard.” 

“ Take it, read it,” said the physician, placing the sheet 
before her. “Was he not a noble man ? See, he has 
forgotten nothing, neither the infirmary nor the factory, 
nor the poor, who did not much like him, nor yourself ; 
look further.” 

“ I ? ” And Aimee opened her great sad eyes. “ How 
could he ? He did not know then ? ” 

“Ho, he knew nothing, but that did not prevent him 
from having a liking for you, and from appreciating. 


248 


A HAPPY FIND. 


thougli it did not look like it, what you did for him. He 
asked himself once, how he could, without wounding you, 
thank you, and show you his affection ; he was full of 
delicacy, with all his bearish manners. Now, calm 
yourself, and listen to me for a moment ; this paper has 
no value, now.” 

Why ? ” 

“Because you are the legitimate heiress of all his 
property. As soon as I shall have succeeded in having 
you recognized as his grandchild, this will be useless, 
valueless, and everything will be yours.” 

“ What does he give you, doctor ? ” 

“Did you not see ? Not much money, but he leaves 
me some property, wdiich is yours, like the rest.” 

Aimee did not seem to have heard. “ Can you,” said 
she, after a moment of silence, “ have me recognized as 
his grandchild, without betraying his conduct towards 
my father and mother ? ” 

How strange these words seemed, sad and sweet at the 
same time ! 

“ No, that is impossible, but that ought not to trouble 
you. I will leave for Switzerland to-morrow, where I 
hope to find the wretched woman who has kept you 
apart.” 

Aimee stopped him ; “ You know,” said she, “that this 
woman was bound by a promise ; we must not forget it. 
She thought to fulfil a sacred duty, and she has acted 
faithfully. I have no reason to complain, the years of 


DEATH OF ST. ROCK. 


249 


my childhood were very happy ones/’ She checked her- 
self, but resumed immediately, in a low voice, Form erly, 
and even lately, I have greatly wished to know my real 
name ; now, my desire is granted, but, if I must bear that 
name at the cost of his stained reputation, and of having 
his past life criticised, judged, and condemned, I prefer 
to renounce it. Why,” she added, sadly, should I draw 
all this blame upon the only one of my kindred that I 
have known and loved ; I care nothing for his fortune, I 
am more than rich with what he gives me, and later, 
when you are old and infirm, I will come to you, and care 
for you, if you wish it.” 

She looked at him and tried to smile. 

Well,, well,” said the physician, rising quickly, 

'I must go, I will come back to-morrow.” 

Long after his departure, Aimee remained in the same 
place, her head bent upon her hands, seeing in her 
thoughts the place where she had passed her joyous 
childhood, to which she was about to return, and where, 
in all probability, she would end her days. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


THE RETURN TO THE ABBEY. 

The abbey was once more open, wide open, doors and 
windows, and, as formerly, the sunshine streamed into 
the rooms so long dark and deserted. An active little 
old woman, with disordered hair, a handkerchief upon 
her head, came and went busily, sweeping, rubbing, 
brushing, never relaxing her efforts until the floors shone 
with cleanliness. 

If you had let me know that you were coming back. 
Mademoiselle Aimee,’’ said she, suddenly, all would 
have been ready, and you would not have had the worry 
of seeing it, and of helping me. It is not fit work for 
you at all, and it worries me to see you sweep, with your 
white hands.” 

Aim^e smiled. 

You had better principles, formerly, Aunt Rose ! you 
told me then, that work, and work- only, would drive 
away worry.” 

^^And I say so still ; only I should like to see you do 
something else, pay visits, for instance ; everybody will 
be glad to see you again, though one can hardly recog- 
nize you.” 

Am I then so changed ? ” 

250 


THE RETURN TO THE ABBEY. 251 

The little old woman approached the young girl, and 
her sharp eyes examined her from head to foot. 

“ It is not so much your face,’’ said she, shaking her 
head, though you are much thinner and paler than 
formerly ; it is not your dress ; it is something in your 
manner which doesn’t belong to this place. I think that 
you are what they call a fine lady, but perhaps that will 
pass away.” 

“ I hope so,” sighed Aimee, who involuntarily thought 
of the happy time when the abbey sufficed for her 
happiness. Then, like Aunt Martha, she went to work, 
trying to forget herself, trying not to think, — 

The winter was just closing, and in this corner of the 
earth wliere its wings hardly touch, nature had already 
begun to awake. Two weeks, which seemed like years, 
had passed since Aimee’s return. Two weeks, and she 
was already so weary, and her path seemed to lose itself 
in a far-away gloom, which her eyes could not pierce. 
Nevertheless, she would not give up, she wished to go 
forward bravely, never stopping, never looking backward, 
until the master’s voice said, “ It is enough.” 

She tried to work, to employ her time well and faith- 
fully ; she wished to be good, she even tried to be gay ; 
she tried to occupy herself with others, never think- 
ing of herself, never looking forward, forgetting the past, 
serving God, and living for him alone ! But there were 
moments, when, in spite of herself, her strength failed 
her, when she felt herself so tired, when she would have 


252 


A HAPPY FIND. 


wished for the end, when this long solitude frightened 
her — when she rebelled. 

Was it then of no avail that her heart throbbed in her 
bosom ? of no avail all its treasures of affection ? But, 
no, it was not so, Maud would feel it some day, when 
her old and faithful love had been returned : no, it was 
not a useless sacrifice, Maud would be happy, and she, 
— she would try to rejoice, to forget herself, to regret 
nothing, and if that could not be, no one would know 
it, save Him to whom she could tell all, her pain 
as well as her weakness, her regrets as well as her 
follies. 

The night came ; Aimee, leaning against the little 
garden gate, lingered a moment before entering. She 
looked thoughtfully at the little cottage at the edge of 
the forest, and tried to represent to herself what her 
life would have been had her young mother lived. 

But, suddenly. Aunt Martha’s last words returned to 
her : When you are sad, remember that you were my 
only consolation, my best joy, and that thought will 
drive away grief.” 

Aunt Martha had spoken truly, Aimee felt it now, 
and her heart swelled with gratitude. It is so sweet to 
have given a little happiness to those who have given us 
everything. 

“Mademoiselle Aimee, it is night, you had better 
come in,” cried Aunt Bose’s voice, suddenly. Aimee 
made a movement, and stopped, motionless with sur- 


THE RETUliN TO THE ABBEY. 253 

prise. Some one was slowly approaching along the path 
which led to the abbey. 

Who could that visitor be ? Was it the doctor ? No, 
the one who drew near was much taller and more slender 
than the little physician. Doubt, fear, and hope filled 
her heart at the same time, and kept her motionless 
where she stood. 

The traveller approached, he was at her side, and she 
had not made a movement. He raised his hat, and 
showed a dark, curly head. 

Aimee held out her hand, without daring to look at him. 

‘‘I thought that you were the doctor,’’ said she, as 
soon as she could speak. 

^‘No, it is only I,” — there was a little bitterness in 
his voice, — ^‘You must pardon me if I am late, but I 
have not much time, and I did not wish to leave with- 
out saying good-by.” 

“ Leave ? ” repeated Aimee, trying to conceal her 
pallor. 

He did not answer at once, and leaned against the 
gate. 

“1 am going home to America,” said he, at last, ^Hhat 
is why I permitted myself ” — 

“ Have you had news ? ” interrupted the young girl ; 

Maud — Mr. Wallson ? ” 

“ They are quite well, and have been at the Lindens 
for three days.” 

Maud has come back ! ” cried she, drawing near him 


254 


A IfAPPV FIND. 


quickly ; and you are going away ? 0 no ! you will 

not do that, will you ? ’’ She lifted to his her beautiful 
pleading eyes. I beg of 3^ou, do not break her heart, 
she has loved you so long and deeply.’’ 

The young man listened without seeming to under- 
stand her, more and more surprised and stupefied. 

“Promise me,” continued the poor child, “that you 
will not make her suffer, that you will try to return — 
her love. Promise me.” 

“ Anything you wish,” he answered, his face radiant ; 
he smiled in spite of himself, “ but first, you must tell 
what you know.” 

She turned away her head. 

“Maud wrote me” — she hesitated, “I have your 
promise, have I not ? ” 

“Yes, you have my promise,” — he was still smiling. 

“Maud wrote me that she loved you, and that her 
affection dated from her childhood.” 

“ Are you very sure of that ? Did she name me ? ” 

His eyes shone with an incredulous light. 

Aimee breathed painfully. 

“Yes,” said she, “'she wrote me that her affection for 

E was as old as herself. Those were her very 

words.” 

Joy, surprise, and emotion, were painted upon the 
young man’s face. 

“ Aimee ! ” his voice was grave and moved, “ I believe 


THE RETURN TO THE ABBEY. 


255 


that I know now why you would not hear me, why you 
left me so abruptly ” — And his look, bright with pride 
and tenderness, rested upon the young girl. 

Aim^e, listen to me ; my brother’s name and mine both 
begin with an E, but his is Eaoul and mine is Eoland.” 

She turned her head quickly. 

“Maud and my brother,” continued he, “have loved 
each other for years ; they were only babies when they 
were pledged to each other ; it was to have news of him 
that she liked to come to the factory, and to read my 
mother’s letters. Now, all is arranged between them, 
and they will be married at once ; Eaoul will take Mr. 
Wallson’s place, or mine, if — I return to America. 
Must I still go ? ” added he, bending towards her. 

For all answer, Aim6e raised her eyes, and, clasping 
her hands, pressed convulsively together, — “I am a 
foundling,” murmured she. 

She said no more, two arms clasped her closely, and 
two lips murmured strange words in her ear, — 

“ I have known that for a long time ; I knew it before 
you, before Aunt Martha, before any one, — it is I, 
Eoland, who lifted you from the tall grass, and carried 
you to Aunt Martha, and you, you are my very own, a 
find infinitely precious. Aimee, I have not such a bad 
memory as you have believed, I crossed the sea to find ^ 
you once more ; must I go back again ? ” 

The pretty head bent itself upon his shoulder, and a 
“ no ” very low, but very distinct, was pronounced. 


256 


A ITAPPr FIND. 


“Did you know that I was at the Lindens the first 
time I saw you there ? ” asked she, suddenly. 

“No, certainly not; but I had already searched for 
you, and I was about to begin again, when I almost 
betrayed myself in hearing your name. How stupid and 
awkward you must have thought me ! ” added he, gayly. 

“No, I only remember that I was sorry for you, but 
why did you not tell me afterwards ? 

“I do not know, I feared Maud’s questions. I was 
wrong. Later, I found a charm in this little mystery, 
and I resolved not to tell you, until I told you that I 
loved you. I did not know,” added he, gravely, “ what 
it would cost me thus to hide my identity.” 

He pressed her once more to his heart. 

“We will not be parted again, shall we, my darling? 
To-morrow, we will go together to Arles, to see Mr. 
Arnauld, then we will return to the Lindens, where I 
have left every one in desolation. And then, if you will 
consent, in a few weeks, when my brother comes, you 
will be mine, mine always, will you not, Aimee ? ” 

He did not wait for her answer, but bent forward to 
kiss her. 

“ Do you know,” said he, in a low voice, “ that it was I 
who gave you your name, that pretty name which is 
true, which will always be true ? ” 

Aimee’s beautiful eyes shone with happiness. 

And Aunt Martha’s prayer was granted. 




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AT HOME AND IN WAR. By Alexander V. Verestchagin, with 23 portraits. 
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THE COSSACKS. 121110, $1.00. 

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LIFE OF LAFAYETTE, the Knight of Liberty. 

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As a large portion of the material presented in this volume has been 
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